A Sense of Obligation
by Aureader
Summary: A chance but meaningful encounter in Netherfield's library forces Darcy and Elizabeth to confront their poor behavior and their feelings for one another.
1. Chapter 1

I haven't posted here before, although I frequently lurk and read. I thought I'd give it a go. The first chapter posts today and beginning next week I will post on Sundays and Wednesdays. This story is 13 chapters so I will finish on September 17, unless something unexpected comes up! Thank you to my betas and readers: Jim, Linda B., Peculiarlady, Rosie J., and Candice! You can see how much work this story had to go through to be beat into shape!

**Blurb: A chance but meaningful encounter in Netherfield's library forces Darcy and Elizabeth to confront their poor behavior and their feelings for one another.**

**Ch. 1**

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the flimsy, but fashionable, curtains of Fitzwilliam Darcy's bedchamber at Netherfield Park. Darcy groaned a little at the light and tried to ignore the signs of dawn in hopes of returning to his dream. It had been the most erotic and satisfying dream of his life; it nearly felt real.

"The best feeling ever," he muttered to himself, only to have his sleep-addled mind reply, _nothing could feel better than last night with Elizabeth Bennet._

The thought made him suddenly sit up in alarm, which made his head swell in pain. With a sinking feeling he noticed his tangled bedclothes and felt a familiar sticky substance between his..._bare_...legs.

_No, no, no. This is impossible, _he thought. He was a gentleman, he did not importune innocent ladies, daughters of gentlemen, and, Elizabeth Bennet had too much sense to succumb to any man's seduction, let alone his. She did not seem to court his good opinion like most other ladies he knew. Darcy did not think she would attempt a scheme to entrap him, but neither did he think her in love with him or wanton.

He felt certain his earlier thought was the mark of a befuddled mind, caused by too much brandy from the night before, if his headache was any sign. However, as he slowly disentangled himself from his bedclothes, he spied a red stain on the white bed linens.

_Impossible!_ He told himself again. Surely, it was from an injury he unknowingly acquired. And then he saw _it. _A lady's handkerchief embroidered with wildflowers, monogrammed ERB, with another blood-stain.

He quickly checked himself for any sign of injury and found none. His senses became more alert as he recognised the lingering scent of lavender on his person.

"Dear Lord, forgive me!" he cried out in despair.

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At last the birds were chirping and Elizabeth felt it was a reasonable hour to begin her day. She had not slept and her head pounded. Today she was to leave Netherfield after morning services. _Not that I should walk into God's house after last night._

Fortunately, she could claim the headache and a desire to stay with Jane as a means to miss the service. But she could not think of a way to avoid appearing at breakfast. If her headache was too intense to leave her room this morning, Mr. Bingley would likely demand she and Jane stay longer. Her mother would put up no fight at all, and then she would be residing under the same roof as Mr. Darcy even longer. And he was the last person in the world she desired to see, ever again!

_No, he is not. _As she looked at her stained mitt, the thought she had tried to keep locked away since last night came unbidden, and Elizabeth blushed in remembrance again.

Last night she had not been able to sleep and went to Netherfield's library, hoping to find something dull and sleep-inducing. Instead, she found Mr. Darcy.

He had jumped up from his chair when she entered and, although she saw a glass of brandy in his hand, she had not considered him in his cups. Her eyes darted to the mostly-full decanter. He stared at her unspeaking for a long minute before Elizabeth realised she was in her dressing-gown and alone with him with her hair a wild mess, loose down her back.

She was turning to go when he grabbed her hand, bowed over it and asked, "Miss Bennet, might I have the favour of this dance?"

Elizabeth looked at him as though he was fit for Bedlam, but he persisted. "I will not be denied your hand thrice. Now, come."

Before she could be irritated at his high-handedness he was singing "The Ash Grove" and leading her through the steps of a dance. She was quite surprised he chose the song she sang at Lucas Lodge and had to admit he sang and danced very well. He bade her to join him in song and all was well until they disagreed on the words for the last verse and dissolved into laughter. The sight of his handsome face lit up in a smile with dimples only added to her breathlessness. He seemed no less affected and nearly collapsed into his chair.

"In Derbyshire, my version is correct," he insisted, unwilling to concede defeat.

She laughed and shook her head. "But you see we are not in Derbyshire, sir!" In truth he had slipped into "Cease Your Funning" from _The Beggar's Opera,_ a song with a similar tune. While Darcy's ending was bitter about a woman's charms, it was more pleasant than a lover's death. Elizabeth chose not to argue with him.

His eyes took on a look she could not make out and he replied in a low voice, with sudden intensity, "Should you like to see Derbyshire, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth gulped, but felt certain his meaning could not be what it seemed. He had only looked at her in disapproval and argued with everything she ever said, had he not? "Aye, sir, and perhaps one day I will. My Aunt Gardiner is from Lambton, and I frequently travel with my aunt and uncle in the summer. They speak often of visiting the Northern counties and even the Lakes someday."

"Indeed? What was her maiden name?"

"Clark. Her father was-"

"The vicar at Kympton. My father knew him well. Father was quite sorry when Mr. Clark had to relocate the family to Bath for his wife's health. I have only recently been able to find a satisfactory replacement." An odd expression passed across his eyes but he continued, "What a curious connection."

"Yes."

"And do you often stay with them?"

"Jane and I frequently do. To my mother's dismay, I admit I prefer the bookshops and theater to balls and soirees. I would rather not go during the height of the Season."

He gave her another odd look and grew quiet for a moment, and Elizabeth stood to leave, realising the impropriety of the entire tête-à-tête.

Darcy hastily stood to bow, but when he did he knocked his brandy glass from the table. Elizabeth immediately knelt down to pick up the broken shards and at the same time her dressing gown slipped open. Realizing she must be much too bare to Darcy's eyes, with her shift indecently low on her bosom, she wrenched her hand back and tried to stand.

She cried out at a sharp pain in her hand, near her thumb. In her haste she had cut herself on a piece of broken glass. In an instant Darcy gathered her in his arms. Gently, he removed her lace mitt and produced a handkerchief from his pocket. Elizabeth was shocked to see it was her own. Where had he got it from? Earlier that very day she had worked on one in the library. When Darcy walked in she set it aside, reading a book to discourage conversation. She must have left it behind when she finally went back to Jane, and Darcy must have pocketed it to return to her the next day.

The wound soon stopped bleeding, leaving a large blot on the handkerchief. As they inspected her hand it was clear stitches would not be required. Fortunately, it was her left and she was right handed, she could avoid using it until entirely healed. Elizabeth wondered why Darcy treated such a minor injury so seriously. He held her bare hand in his own, even caressing it, while they stood looking in each other's eyes. When Elizabeth discerned not disapproval but affection, and perhaps desire, in his blue eyes she nearly swooned.

"Allow me to help you to your room." He lifted her as though she weighed nothing and carried her to her room. Later she wondered how he knew which door was hers.

When they reached the door he spoke softly. "I apologise that my actions were the cause of your pain." He paused and she almost believed he blushed, but the lighting was poor as only a small lamp lit the hallway and she could not be sure. "And as for my display earlier, I fear the brandy may have gone to my head. Good night, Miss Elizabeth, sleep well." Then he turned and strode away.

She stumbled into her chamber and spent the hours until dawn in deep confusion. She was filled with shame to admit she found great comfort in his touch. She had seen a playful side of him she had never known before and confessed to herself he had always been handsome, but his smile and the disappearance of his arrogance made him captivating.

If he had not announced that any sign of regard she had seen him display for her was solely due to being half-drunk, she might have concluded he was in a fair way to being in love, and think an offer was near. She could argue the sentiments she feared she now harboured, and the sensations she enjoyed, came naturally when in love. Instead, she was mortified, for she had thrilled to his touch, the touch only a husband should give. She could not even say she liked him, and they had no understanding. What did it say of her to allow him such liberty and enjoy it?

Never once did she reproach him or try to pull away. _What must he think of me?_ She had conversed with him and danced with him late in the night, entirely alone. She arrived in only her night clothes and when her dressing gown slipped open her body was much too exposed to him. She allowed an embrace, caresses and even acquiesced as he carried her to her bedchamber door. If they were seen her reputation was ruined! She could even now still smell his scent, and the feel of his arms around her was seared into her memory and branded on her flesh. Shame at her wantonness mingled with unrepentant enjoyment of the memory.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and readied for the day before slipping silently into Jane's room. She still slept. Taking a deep breath Elizabeth descended the stairs and entered the breakfast room. At the sight of Darcy, who made no acknowledgement of her presence other than rising, her traitorous heart screamed out, _Never yours!_

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Darcy did not need to look up from his coffee to know Elizabeth had entered the room. He already sensed her presence, felt it really, perhaps in his soul. How would she greet him? How _could _she greet him? He rose with Hurst as Elizabeth stood silent. He studiously avoided looking at her, not knowing how he could bear to see reproach and regret in her fine eyes.

That thought was exceedingly painful. Although he could not recollect their night together, the only thing more painful than having no actual memories of the encounter was the idea that she would repent being with him. She was a gentlewoman; no matter what he seduced her into doing last night, he knew she would be reproaching herself this morning and likely hating him. He knew from nearly the beginning of their acquaintance that Elizabeth Bennet was no fortune-hunter. The blame of last night resided solely on his uncontrollable lust for her.

After Miss Bingley politely inquired about Miss Bennet's health silence filled the room. At last Bingley entered, always the last riser. He asked after Jane and then inquired about Elizabeth's state of health.

"I fear I have a headache, sir, and would like to see to Jane when she awakens since we are to leave today. I pray you will forgive my absence at service this morning."

Darcy could not help but look at her then, trying to examine her in earnest. Indeed, she looked as though she felt unwell and had slept poorly. _Nothing but your own fault, you disgusting beast._

Even more pressing than continued self-recriminations, he needed to speak with her before she left. "Perhaps, Miss Elizabeth, a walk around the garden would refresh you some. I am already dressed for service and would be pleased to escort you."

Elizabeth perceived a hint of demand and, surprisingly, pleading in his suggestion, and she had never felt more confused by him. She would rather forget everything from the night before, but there was something in his eyes that made her believe he was truly concerned for her welfare and did not intend to reproach her.

Once again she felt an inexplicable pull to him. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy, that sounds wise."

"Oh, but this morning is so cold. I am sure it would do you both much more good to stay indoors." Caroline clearly did not like the idea of Darcy accompanying Elizabeth anywhere.

"I find it most invigorating," Darcy replied.

"Indeed! Well, perhaps I ought to try it myself."

Bingley saved his friend by interjecting. "Caroline, you know you will not have time for anything of the sort. You are not dressed for church. I put up with you making us late to every other event but I will not make a mockery of God's house." Caroline had to give up her fight and neither she nor her brother noticed Darcy and Elizabeth winced at the mentioning of an all-knowing deity.

Darcy noticed with increasing anxiety that Elizabeth did not eat much at breakfast, and before too long she announced she was going upstairs to change her shoes. Darcy agreed to meet her in the front hall momentarily. When he arrived the footman was assisting her into her pelisse, and Darcy was a little surprised at the irrational jealousy he felt at any other man touching her. He had noted the feeling in milder forms before, but today he could barely contain his possessiveness. Everything was different now.

They walked in silence until slightly removed from the house. She leaned a little heavily on his arm and seemed resolute in not looking at him. He directed their steps towards a stone bench where they could sit with some privacy.

"Would you like to rest, Miss Bennet?"

"Thank you." Darcy watched in horror as she winced a little and sat. She must have noticed his expression because she blushed. Darcy had heard that there might be soreness after a maiden's first time and hoped he had at least been gentle.

He made to sit on the bench with her and attempted to hide a grimace, but Elizabeth saw. "Are you well?"

After realising what he must have done the night before, he had begun making plans. There was not much blood on the bed linens but it would be noticed by the maids. He would not allow them to gossip. The only thing he could think of was to give himself a small cut about thigh level and blame it on clumsiness due to his drinking. His valet had nodded when asked to bring a salve for the wound, and he explained a broken glass had been found in the library. Darcy had no memory of that either but was happy to have a ready cause for his injury.

He replied, "Yes, only a little sore."

"Oh no! You are hurt too?" Darcy blushed deeply at the reference to her pain.

A brief memory emerged of carrying Elizabeth to his chamber door. She clutched his lapels and was pressed so delightfully against him. She must have believed he strained himself carrying her, but she felt like nothing more than a dried leaf. His concern for her deepened, as did his disgust for himself. Carrying her through Netherfield's hallways would have been enough to damage her reputation had they been seen! What could he have been thinking? And then to know indisputably that he had caused her pain was nearly more than he could bear.

As it happened, she had slightly twisted her ankle on her way down the stairs earlier. The footman who saw the incident explained that Miss Bingley had ordered a large chaise lounge to be moved from a drawing room to her private sitting room the previous day and one of the footmen carrying it lost his grip. The chaise fell enough to do some damage to a step.

Elizabeth would not have stepped on the section damaged if she were descending through the middle as she had done at breakfast. Instead, she was coming down just as Caroline went up and Elizabeth slid over to make way. The pain was just enough to be annoying. Few things could stop her from enjoying the outdoors, and she sensed Darcy believed this conversation urgent.

Elizabeth was confused to see what seemed like shame in Darcy's eyes as he gazed at her for a long moment. Believing she should help him along she began. "Mr. Darcy, last night…"

She stopped speaking when he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He let out a short breath. When he opened his eyes they met hers with a tortured expression.

"Miss Bennet, please accept my sincerest apologies for my behaviour last night. It was unpardonable and I cannot think of it without abhorrence."

Elizabeth was confused that he should reproach himself so much for his silly display of singing and dancing, but then she knew him to be a proud man who would normally disdain such actions. Or was it that he disdained touching her? She knew herself to be a woman he found only tolerable at first sight and he had been drinking last night; otherwise he never would have touched her, let alone with desire in his eyes. Her cheeks burned scarlet at the mixture of anger she felt at his insult to her from weeks ago and her continued feelings of humiliation due to her actions.

Desiring to end their conversation Elizabeth directed the subject to the only thing that concerned her. "Sir, I believe you have something of mine." She needed her handkerchief back, or at least needed to know he destroyed it. It would not do for it to be found amongst his things.

Darcy's face darkened and he said with surprising remorse, "I regret that I cannot return it to you, but I have dealt with the evidence." _I have taken what was not mine to take. I have ruined and destroyed her virtue, and nothing can ever return it._

How could he ever live with himself? He stole her precious innocence, which ought to have been given to her husband, to a man worthy of her and who loved her, and he could not even recall the act. Once again he felt soiled and unclean. He wondered if this was something like madness, like Lady Macbeth trying again and again to cleanse her hands. But no physical washing could erase his sins, and there was no time for that…or continued silence.

"Miss Bennet, you must see that we need to take appropriate actions." Her beautiful face contorted in confusion. "I know my duty, my honour demands it."

She bit her lip and was quite slow in her reply. "Mr. Darcy, I see no reason to force you into marriage as I do not believe anyone saw us. You did not...impose yourself on me. My behaviour was not irreproachable."

"Elizabeth!" he cried in horror at the thought that she might blame herself in any way. She blushed at his use of her Christian name, but he was quite beyond caring about that impropriety when he had done so much worse. Fleetingly he wondered what endearments he used during the night. Had he unleashed his tongue and heart to her as in his fantasies?

"I comprehend your feelings but there is only myself to blame." She looked down, but he gently tilted her head up and was struck by the uncertainty in her eyes. Did she fear him now? And how creamy and smooth her skin looked! To know that he had touched it with every intimacy, but could not recall it, threatened to undo him.

She pulled her head back from his hand and squared her shoulders. "Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of your proposal, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline it."

His eyes were fixed on her face, and he was surprised to own more resentment than astonishment. He felt all colour in his face drain away, and knew his disturbance of mind was visible in every feature. He struggled for the appearance of composure; he knew he could not achieve true equanimity, and would not open his lips until he believed himself to have attained the aspect if not the emotion of sanguinity.

At length, with a voice of forced calmness, he said, "And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting? I might wish to understand why with so little attention to decorum and honour you refuse me?"

"And I might wish to know why you think only _your_ feelings of duty and honour would induce me to matrimony?"

He stood and replied contemptuously, "Only duty and honour? I know I do not need to tell you my worth and status in life. Are these not sufficient inducements?"

"You dare think your money would make me risk my every happiness? What of your character, sir?"

In the month of their acquaintance she had been building a case of extreme dislike against the gentleman. If she put aside her own feelings of delight at the unguarded side of his nature as revealed last night, of his looks of affection, and caressing embrace—if she was honest—she remained unsure of his character. One month was simply not long enough to know a man.

He took an abrupt step back, as though she had struck him. He hung his head. "You are perfectly correct, you have no reason to believe anything good of my character—but Elizabeth, you are not thinking sensibly of all the consequences should you refuse me! At the very least you cannot hide this from any other man; he would know."

Elizabeth recoiled. He had finally said it. He was reproaching her for her conduct. "You have said quite enough, sir. I would not dream of requesting you to put aside your aspirations for a match of beauty, rank, and fortune for a woman of lower birth, and questionable morals." She hastily stood and took in a sharp breath at the twinge in her ankle.

Before she could walk away, he grabbed her right hand and pulled her close. His actions reminded her of his caring nature the night before.

Darcy could not resist stroking her hand just a little. They both wore gloves, of course, but his action appeared to soothe her. She misunderstood him, which should not have been a surprise.

"Elizabeth, I never had such aspirations. I would have married years ago if I had. And I find nothing wanting in your morals. What is this of your beauty? After last night how can you doubt that I am entirely enthralled by you? Have you not discovered me staring at you? Hoping for a peek into your fine eyes?"

It was happening again. Elizabeth's heart slammed against her chest and she felt surprisingly liquid as he gazed at her, and tenderly stroked her hand. She could not hold to her resolve; she could not walk away, nor could she speak.

"It is time for me to leave for church, but tell me you will reconsider my request and find a way to answer me before you depart Netherfield this afternoon?"

He ceased rubbing her hand and the spell was broken. "I...thank you, I shall take the time to think on what you have said."

He was surprised at the relief and hope bestowed by her words. Giving her a tremulous smile, he bowed over her hand before tucking it onto his arm to escort her back to the house, where they separated.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favorites! A few people have asked how the blood got on Darcy's sheet. It transferred from the handkerchief. It would not be very much at all but Darcy has no idea what to expect there. Regardless of morals for men at the time, seducing maidens was always considered bad.

**_Note: This chapter includes a sermon. I do not necessarily prescribe to the doctrines mentioned nor do I mean to condemn others and their lifestyles. I only mean to portray what Georgians would hear in their church at the time and how it affects the characters._**

**Ch. 2**

Darcy's mind wandered during the service. He was not accustomed to the distracting emotions coursing through his soul. Not that it should have surprised him. He had experienced more intense, and sometimes more widely different, feelings since meeting Elizabeth Bennet a month ago than at any other time in his life. How dare the infuriating woman refuse him! He was worth at least five times most of the men of her acquaintance, and he was an honourable man… His anger died. She was correct, she knew little of his character and what of his inner nature he had exposed was enough to repulse most ladies. Indeed, he was repulsed, too.

Was that why she rebuffed him? Was she disgusted by the idea of marrying her seducer? He would need to find a way to assure her he had never done such a thing before—nothing even close. How could he have sunk so low? He grimaced.

It was exceedingly difficult to believe he was capable of such an act. Even more than the guilt he felt and worrying for Elizabeth's reputation, he feared a child should be the consequence of their union. He hated the idea of his child not having all the entitlements a Darcy should have. It was one of the reasons he had always meant to remain chaste until marriage.

He would do the noble thing and care for a woman who bore his child, but he had always meant for the woman who did so to be his wife. He was not like Wickham, heedless of the consequences. A Darcy never shirked his obligations. More than that, he had desired to marry Elizabeth for weeks and now he certainly must. He offered Elizabeth the position of his _wife_ and she acted as though she would be content to only live in a small cottage if she was with child, the same fate as many a ruined lady. It was unfathomable.

Again he considered Elizabeth's reply. She was being nonsensical and refusing him when she certainly must know their behaviour was entirely prohibited. Even more unbelievable, she did not seem concerned about consequences at all; it would be impossible for her to be so naive. Her reputation would be damaged beyond repair if it were known. Furthermore, if they had been intimate, he knew it meant she must care for him. She was not so weak-willed to be led astray by his handsome face or any charming words he could utter. The Elizabeth of reality was not the eager Elizabeth of his fantasies, and even in them he always proposed marriage before she would grant a single liberty. Why would she refuse the marriage, then? Darcy decided to reconsider what he knew to have happened.

He recalled drinking in the library after all had retired for the evening. Earlier in the day he had spent a half hour alone in the very same room with Elizabeth and had refused to acknowledge her presence. Ignoring her did not make her disappear or leave, and as time went on he found himself wishing she would make some attempt to gain his notice. Instead, she sat there reading, perfectly content with the silence, and he had to admire her all the more for it.

A wiser man would have left the library, but at the time he had told himself he remained because he could do so without fear of becoming more bewitched by her. He now realised his actions were nothing but conceited bravado. At first he was fearless; then he had to admit he had no desire to leave. Finally, he recognised that if he moved at all, he would be in very serious danger of grabbing her to his chest and begging to kiss her tempting lips.

By nightfall, exhausted from fighting his impulses, he was glad to hear plans of her departure on the morrow. Yet foolishly he returned to the library, where he could imagine her sitting again and indulge his fantasies. She had been embroidering a handkerchief when he came upon her earlier that day. They sat in companionable silence. It was a scene of domestic tranquillity and it affected him deeply. At one point he looked up and she had put her work away and held a book instead. When she left the room, she left the handkerchief behind. He carried it with him the rest of the day, treasuring his stolen token. It bore a slight trace of her fragrance and only added to his ability to fantasise. Once again he had fought his desire to forsake his obligations and marry the only woman who had ever captivated him so completely.

Darcy did remember the moment Elizabeth walked into the library, appearing like an enticing nymph out of his dreams. He vaguely recalled laughter and possibly...singing? He winced. But he knew, in his heart of hearts, he did not imagine the tender look in her eye when he had his arms around her. It was the one thought keeping him from madness. Of course, he could not recall how or why she was in his arms but could only pray to have her look upon him that way again.

He repeated an attempt to focus his mind sufficiently. He had awoken with a terrible headache and saw a brandy decanter and a glass in his room. He had not thought he over-indulged so much; the decanter, which he recognised as belonging in the library, was still quite full. He rarely drank heavily and only under times of severe emotional strain, when entirely alone. Even after nearly losing Georgiana to Wickham, he had never been entirely inebriated, nor so affected as to lose his had broken a glass in the library, where he knew he had started the evening. What happened in between?

He had awoken with the feeling of an unbelievable night spent in passion with Elizabeth and, as well as evidence of his gratification, there was blood on his bed linens, Elizabeth's handkerchief, and himself. The handkerchief's presence was unusual, but he rationalised he must have used it to assist her afterwards. She obviously had not slept well, if at all, and was sore. There was no more denying it. Every circumstance confirmed that he had irrevocably stolen Elizabeth's virtue.

Darcy glanced around the church and wondered that there was not some marking on him alerting the congregation to his depravity. But did he not know first-hand how a scoundrel and seducer could coexist amongst the unsuspecting populace and earn their trust and admiration? To think that he had acted no better than a rake of the highest order, _no better than George Wickham,_ made him feel ill. How could he ever call himself a gentleman again? How was he to ever earn Elizabeth's esteem? And what was he to do if she rejected him again?

Mindful that he was in a church and had broken enough of the Lord's commandments, he turned his attention to the minister. The Meryton vicar seemed a reasonable and sensible man, qualities Darcy admired in the clergy. Mr. Black did tend towards Methodism, but Darcy thought it refreshing to hear. This gentleman was thankfully not like the sycophants his aunt employed, and he reminded Darcy of the minister of his youth. The man was originally hired by Darcy's grandfather but resigned from the parish for his wife's health. For some reason, Darcy could not shake the feeling he had recently had news of Mr. Clark.

When it came time for Darcy to fill the position he was able to resist his aunt's pressures. Instead, he gave it to an older cleric who would suffice nicely until his youngest Darcy cousin took orders. This only occurred after— and quite thankfully— his father's godson had resigned any claim to the living. _As if Wickham should ever be in charge of a parish!_

Annoyed with his thoughts turning towards the reprobate, he resolved to pay full attention to the rector. The man did not disappoint. Instead of relying on a printed sermon by one of the popular theologians of the time, he clearly had put much study and thought into his homily.

"Let us turn our attention now to this passage in Romans. _'For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly._' Now, some puff themselves up and say 'I am a good man. I am a better man than he,' and then point towards their neighbours. But you would be no better than the Pharisee praying in the temple to thank God that he is not like the tax collector.

"My brethren, we should recall St. Paul's words: '_For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.'_

"Allow us to examine the nature of sin. If I asked you what sin was, you might say to me, 'Mr. Black, I know murder and adultery are sins.' And I could ask you if you were innocent of such sins and you might reply in all sincerity that you are.

"But I would direct you to the Saviour's words in Matthew: _'Ye have heard that it was said of them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment: But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca' — _that is, to insult your brethren —_ 'shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.'_

"Let me also call to your mind King David's words in the one hundred first psalm: _Whoso privily slandereth his neighbour, him will I cut off; him that hath an high look and a proud heart will I not suffer' _and_ 'He that worketh deceit shall not dwell within my house: he that telleth lies shall not tarry in my sight.'_

"Is not hatred of your brother as bad as murder? Did not Cain first hate his brother Abel for the Lord's acceptance of his sacrifice? Sinful thoughts beget sinful actions. Ladies, you may never think to physically harm another but you may kill a person's worth and reputation with your gossip and wagging tongues out of jealousy and spite.

"We live in a society that condemns a woman for flirtatious behaviour, and indeed it is abominable, but we ought to remind the gentlemen that the Saviour tells us, '_Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery: But I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.' _

"Brother, Sister, can you now claim to be sinless?"

Darcy tried to not shift uncomfortably in his seat; he knew regardless of what happened the night before that he most certainly was _not _innocent of sin with Elizabeth, if taken in that light. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bingley nervously adjust his cravat, amongst the fidgeting of several other young men. He knew who Bingley lusted after, but what of these other men? _Not after my Elizabeth!_

Mr. Black continued, "Perhaps you can. You might even pride yourself on your ability to control yourself and avoid temptation, but I would argue that your prideful spirit _is _your sin. Might we recall the proverb: _'Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before the fall. Better it is to be of an humble spirit with the lowly, than to divide the spoil with the proud.'_

"Who among us is worthy? Did Christ not pardon us all with the same act of redemption? Before God we are all equals, sinners redeemed by grace.

"As we are told in Galatians, '_There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus._' There is no rank or situation in life which makes one more holy or godly than the other.

"But there is redemption from our sin. As we are told in the Gospel of John, Jesus Christ paid our debt, _'For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved_.'

"We must do more than merely repent. We must put aside our unclean thoughts as much as we shun sinful behaviour. '_Having therefore this guidance and these promises from the gospel, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God_.'

"Let us pray."

Darcy was very silent on the carriage ride back to Netherfield. Caroline and the Hursts were astonished at the near revolutionary preachings of Mr. Black: Of course rank and birth made a difference in behaviour and conduct. Superior society could only be found amongst the gentry and not the vulgar tradesmen or those in service. Bingley said little, his eyes darting around the coach, obviously unsettled. When they reached the house, Darcy claimed a headache and returned to his rooms until the Bennet ladies were to depart.

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Inside his chambers Darcy soberly reflected on the service. He was entirely convinced now he was no gentleman; his father and mother would be horrified by their son's behaviour. Not only was he a seducer, but he had intentionally fed his lustful thoughts with fantasies of Elizabeth, a lady who in all ways acted respectably. Perhaps he could not be held accountable for his dreams, but he persistently engaged in such fantasies even in his waking hours for weeks now, whilst he determinedly told himself he could not marry her due to her connections and the behaviour of her family. All the while he had prided himself at his ability to not succumb to temptation. Other men would cast off their honourable intentions of duty to their families to feed their lust for the enticing woman, or to offer the position of mistress. He had never touched a woman, had hardly been infatuated before and always kept his carnal desires under good regulation, until Elizabeth.

He had been too proud of his family position to do the truly honourable thing and marry her. He had occasionally wondered how he would forget her. He had wondered, when he did marry, if he could fully embrace his wife without fleeting thoughts of how it would feel to have Elizabeth in his arms instead. Now he realized how degrading that would be for both Elizabeth and that wife, how he would be an adulterer in his heart if not in deed. He had certainly never been so attracted to a lady before, and could not entirely ensure he would be again, but he had reasoned he should not be held accountable for his thoughts and that his faithfulness would be enough to offer his future bride, even if he longed for another.

Saturday afternoon he was so certain of his ability to resist temptation he had refused to leave the library. Later he returned there to allow his mind to imagine a much more illicit encounter; when she actually entered the room his control must have entirely disappeared. Yes, pride certainly came before the fall.

Now, as he repented his licentious thoughts, actions, and abominable pride, he fervently wished he could go back in time to swallow his opinions on marriage and offer for Elizabeth with a clear conscience. With his heart and soul bare before the Almighty, faced with his failings for the very first time in his life, he vowed to be more humble, to put all others' feelings and concerns before his own, and to be a true gentleman, the man he was raised to be. The reminder of his sins would be his companion for life; he could have no option but to improve himself. He should have felt a sense of obligation to her for his thoughts alone. Now it was undeniably his duty to marry her. After understanding the failures in his character, as illuminated by her, he felt a debt of gratitude as well.

%%%%%

Elizabeth walked up the stairs after being released from Darcy's side, barely sensible enough to avoid the broken spot on the stairwell. She could hardly credit how the man could affect her so. She resolved to put him out of her mind until she could reflect privately. Near the master's chambers, before rounding the corner to turn to the guest wing, Elizabeth overheard two servants speaking.

"Linton, did you hear about Mr. Darcy?" a maid asked.

A male voice answered, "You know better than to repeat gossip, Aggie."

Far from knowing all the servants of Netherfield, Elizabeth surmised the only man who would be near this part of the house would be a valet. The footmen would all stay downstairs.

"Aye, but I don't mean nothin' bad. The man's a saint if one ever lived, no matter what troubles he was trying to drown last night." She seemed very eager to share her information. "I heard his valet, Jennings, telling Mrs. Parker that she had Mr. Darcy's personal thanks for taking care of the Miss Bennets so well. And I even saw him giving her a florin!"

"Yes, I have spent enough time in his homes to know 'tis always this way with Mr. Darcy. He is the best landlord, and the best master," said he, "that ever lived; not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but will give him a good name."

"I even saw him helpin' Susie by carrying up a water pitcher meant for the younger Miss Bennet."

"Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only to avoid fortune hunters and because he does not rattle away like other young men."

"Ya mean like the Master?"

"Hush, Aggie. You know our master is a very amiable and good-natured man, only young and still learning. No, there are some bucks who never speak but to boast of themselves. They appear charming but there is nothing but selfishness and conceit within. The Master and Mr. Darcy are both good and honourable men. Now enough. Off to your work!"

The servants went on their way and Elizabeth felt she ought to as well, but she could not help marvelling: _In what an amiable light this puts him! _

There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth's mind, a more gentle sensation towards Darcy than she had ever felt before. The commendation bestowed on him by Bingley's valet was of no trifling nature. He must surely have been in Darcy's household often enough to know the truth, and yet was not likely to be blindly prejudiced in favour of him. As a landlord and a master, how many people's happiness were in Darcy's guardianship!—how much of pleasure or pain was it in his power to bestow!—how much of good or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward by Bingley's valet and the maid was favourable to Darcy's character.

She arrived at Jane's door and knocked.

"Enter," her sister's angelic voice called.

Elizabeth was cheered to see proof of her sister's restored health. She had slept soundly the previous night, at last, and it did her much good. She was everything serene, graceful and beautiful. _She should be the one to leave Netherfield with an offer of marriage_.

"Oh, Jane! I am pleased to see you looking so well!" Jane smiled and Elizabeth dropped her voice. "I am positive a certain gentleman will be, too."

Jane turned a demure shade of pink. "I wish I would have been able to enjoy his company more." Blushing again she added, "And Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. They are such elegant and friendly ladies."

Elizabeth chose to nod instead of arguing with her sister on the subject of Bingley's sisters.

"You did not need to miss services to tend to me this morning. I am quite recovered, as you see."

"Nonsense." She stopped speaking as she saw her sister was inspecting her face.

"You look as though you did not sleep last night. You must not make yourself ill on my account! I would never forgive myself if…" Jane trailed off as tears pricked her eyes. She was such a gentle soul that it clearly pained her to think of her sister suffering any ailment, however much everyone agreed one did not die of trifling little colds.

Turning Elizabeth by the shoulders and leading her towards the door, Jane spoke again. "Lizzy, please go rest yourself until it is time for us to depart."

Elizabeth spun around to resist her sister's entreaties, but one look at Jane's face discouraged her. Her sister was genuinely concerned; Elizabeth could see it by the small pinch around her eyes. Jane could be firm where she felt herself in the right.

"Very well, I suppose I should savour these last moments of quiet. Can you imagine the chatter of Kitty, Lydia and Mamma acquainting us with all the news and gossip we have missed?" Jane and Elizabeth shared a light laugh and Elizabeth left to rest in her room.

She disrobed to her chemise and lay in bed, considering her feelings for Mr. Darcy and his proposals. She attempted to sketch his character and was puzzled exceedingly. She thought she knew the man. She prided herself on being a quick study of human character, but Mr. Darcy was proving to be more complex than she originally believed, and certainly more than she had ever encountered before.

At first sight she had recognized him to be a handsome man with a dashing figure, but he spoke to hardly a soul at the Meryton Assembly and would not dance with a lady not of his own party. Worse than that, Elizabeth overheard Bingley offer to introduce Darcy to her so he might have an agreeable dance partner, and not only had Darcy rebuffed his friend but he insulted her—and every other local lady—with his remarks.

In the weeks that followed she noticed his silent and taciturn disposition. He appeared haughty and proud and made his disapproval of the neighbourhood very plain. More than once she had seen him with a scowl on his face while looking upon her person, which she thought showed disapproval. She had believed him to be rather ungentlemanly.

Then last night he was so friendly, open, and solicitous. This morning he offered her marriage because he felt obligated by his duty and honour, though she was not entirely sure why. Because he had held her and touched her? Because he admired her? True, if their meeting was known it would be rather compromising, but he did not speak of that.

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide. He did say that another gentleman, presumably her future husband, would_ know_.

_Know what?_

That she had allowed another man to touch her unguardedly? That she did not stop him? That she enjoyed it? That even now, merely thinking of it, she felt warm as prickles of sensation coursed through her body?

Did such sensations indicate she was wanton?

Would she feel this way if _any_ man touched her? Would she feel this way when her husband touched her? Or was it only Darcy who could elicit such _pleasurable_ feelings within her?

Elizabeth knew she never felt such feelings before, and she had to admit her attention was frequently captured by Darcy. His countenance was striking. She had engaged in several debates with him and she admired his intellect. He was clearly intelligent and could express himself well, when he wished. He conversed with her as though she was an equal and respected her opinion, even if his own differed.

Last night it was as if she was under a spell. Darcy was suddenly everything charming and she was left breathless. She truly believed she was in some danger of falling in love with him. Perhaps she always had been. It was a startling thought.

She shook her head and refocused her mind. The material point was she had allowed him liberties she had always imagined herself refusing any man...and she had enjoyed them immensely. She ought to feel some sense of obligation to him.

As a girl she had always meant to marry only for the deepest love. As a young woman she wanted esteem, affection and companionship, but she found she did not at present dislike Darcy as much as she had for these last several weeks. She learned he deserved her respect and esteem. He certainly was acting the part of the gallant by offering to marry her when his reputation would not be the one damaged, and when he could aspire to much better. She saw he could be agreeable; perhaps she might even teach him more liveliness.

She knew she could never find a better match by society's expectations, but was that what she wanted? What if they did not get along? One night of enjoyment, even if it seemed to erase her previous dislike, was not enough on which to base a lifetime and marriage. Would Darcy regret marrying a country girl without connections or fortune?

She began to drift to sleep at last, smiling as she remembered Darcy's arms around her, his intoxicating scent, and the look in his eyes as he professed his admiration for her this morning. She was too tired to reprimand her wayward thoughts, but perhaps it was just as well. She thought too much.

%%%%%

Darcy paced around the downstairs hall, waiting for Elizabeth to descend. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bingley fidgeting and looking slightly pained; parting with his angel was clearly taking a toll on him. Caroline and the Hursts were in the drawing room waiting to be summoned to see the guests away. At last Darcy heard Elizabeth and Jane on the stairs. Elizabeth allowed Jane to go first, and Bingley quickly offered her his arm to escort her to the carriage.

Elizabeth was beaming and Darcy had to catch his breath. _She smiles at her sister and Bingley, not you,_ he told himself. He could not help dreaming of the day when he might receive such an affectionate look from her.

He moved towards Elizabeth and reached the bottom of the stairs just as she stumbled on the second to last step, the broken one. She lurched forward and grasped his arms, near his shoulders, as his hands caught her around the waist.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment before he managed to speak. "Are you well?" Her petite fingers were still pressing into him.

She looked dazed and replied breathlessly. "Yes. What timely help you are."

"I would wish to always assist you. Here, take my arm."

They passed the drawing-room just in time for Caroline and the Hursts to emerge to fare them well. Caroline was clearly discomposed to see Elizabeth on Darcy's arm but apparently determined it not worth the bother to see her guests outside. She gave Elizabeth a hearty handshake and Jane a tender hug before allowing the gentlemen to escort the ladies to their conveyance. She and the Hursts returned promptly to the drawing-room.

Bingley had just handed Jane in when Darcy turned and spoke quietly to Elizabeth, who was still on his arm. "Allow me to offer you my hand."

Elizabeth looked at him in confusion. Certainly he meant to hand her into the carriage and, since she had already accepted his arm, the consent was already granted. There was no need to ask permission. Then she saw a certain unguarded look in his eye and began to understand.

Darcy squeezed her hand. "Please…" then he mouthed her Christian name, being careful not to let anyone hear or see him take the liberty. He could not explain it, only that it felt like his very salvation hinged on Elizabeth accepting this proposal.

Elizabeth was as astonished by the humility in his face and voice as she was by the humble forwardness of his manner. Looking him squarely in the eye she replied clearly and distinctly, "I thank you. I accept."

And thus the deed was done and the carriage pulled away, leaving both suddenly aware of the gravity of their agreement. Elizabeth looked back and saw him standing with the corners of his mouth turned up in a shy smile. If she had to name the look, she might call it hopeful, a sentiment she shared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the reviews and follows! Thank you to my excellent betas Jim, Linda B., Peculiarlady, Candice and Rosie J., but any mistakes you see are my own. If anything sounds like JA it is. Well, they're engaged but didn't talk about a thing and Elizabeth is back at Longbourn. You know who's coming to Hertfordshire then!**

"I hope, my dear," said Mr. Bennet to his wife as they were at breakfast the next morning, "that you have ordered a good dinner today, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party."

After assuring his wife that the visitor was not Charlotte Lucas, but rather a gentleman and a stranger, Mr. Bennet paused to allow her the necessary effusions.

"A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure! Well, I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley!"

"It is not Mr. Bingley."

His pause was, to Elizabeth, dreadful. Her heart slammed in her chest. Mr. Darcy must have sent a note requesting to call upon her father today. They had not arranged such an interview but it could not be avoided. She dearly wished she was not causing her father pain by accepting the man she had so openly disliked only half a week before. And her mother! Darcy simply could not be in the house when Mrs Bennet was informed.

At last Mr Bennet continued. "It is my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases."

Nearly a week away from her family had made them dearer to Elizabeth, yet at the same time, her tolerance for her mother's effusions was less than ever. Perhaps it was simply because she imagined how Darcy would observe this scene. She winced as her mother's shrill voice pierced her ears.

"I cannot bear to hear that odious man mentioned. Pray do not speak of him further. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it."

This time she and Jane did not even bother attempting to explain the nature of an entail to their mother yet again. Their father continued to read his cousin's letter aloud, which proved Mr. Collins to be a most ridiculous person.

The man himself, arriving promptly at four o'clock, proved no different than his letter. He was an oddity in the extreme: a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility. His first day and evening were met with heavy tedium by the entire family. It could only add to Elizabeth's vexation. Why had Darcy not called?

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Lydia and Kitty desired to walk to Meryton, hoping a certain officer had returned from his errand in Town. Elizabeth could not be pleased by the motivations of such a scheme, and was disappointed to hear it supported openly by her parents. Her mother was insensible to the impropriety of her daughters being so forward, her senses so far from right herself. Her father desired only to be rid of the noisy girls with whom he lived and his ridiculous cousin who invaded his book room, and whose folly had already been laughed at in sufficient abundance the previous day. Elizabeth had an additional reason to stay home, believing Darcy might call, but knew it to be more prudent to attend her sisters and try to moderate their behaviour. Thus all the young people but Mary walked to Meryton.

While on the walk, Elizabeth could not be pleased by her cousin's attentions. He stuttered inanities to the whole group but Elizabeth believed she detected some partiality aimed at her. Mr. Collins had written of his intention to offer an olive branch to the Bennet family for his part in the entail, and that he had come prepared to admire his cousins. The previous evening he declared he had been encouraged to marry by his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and he extolled at length the advantages of his situation and connection to that great lady.

Undoubtedly he meant to find a wife, and Elizabeth's mother was a determined matchmaker. Not to have her goals affronted by Collins discouraging Bingley, she had evidently guided him away from Jane and he settled on Elizabeth as the possible companion of his future life. Elizabeth allowed a wry smile as she realised her engagement to Darcy would save her from that unpleasant fate at least, and avoid the embarrassment of Collins's proposal to her. She would escape the necessary refusal, and the expression of her mother's extreme displeasure that would follow.

As soon as the party of walkers reached the main street of Meryton, her younger sisters espied the very officer they had been hoping to hear of, as well as an uncommonly handsome gentleman who only wanted regimentals to be entirely charming. Mr. Denny instantly set about introducing the Miss Bennets to the young man, Mr. Wickham, who was soon to be a lieutenant in the militia.

They had been speaking to the new acquaintance for a few minutes when the sound of a horse drew their notice and they saw Mr. Bingley approach. He was clearly quite happy to see Jane and declared it had been his intention to call on Longbourn to see how she recovered.

Elizabeth was surprised to see him alone. "And how is everyone at Netherfield?" she asked him. She could not account for it but she was desperate to hear news of Darcy. His delay in calling at Longbourn awakened terrible suspicions.

Bingley startled at first, so intent on gazing at Jane was he that hearing another's voice clearly surprised him. "They are all very well. I thank you."

Elizabeth was not satisfied with this answer and pushed for more information. "Your sisters have not suffered from their contact with Jane, I hope?"

Bingley looked at her with unhidden puzzlement. "No, they are perfectly healthy. As I can see you are, thankfully."

Elizabeth chewed her lip and decided to ask forthrightly. Soon they would be openly betrothed. She should not fear showing some kind of preference in the days preceding the announcement. Indeed it might lessen the surprise to the community.

"And how does Mr. Darcy do? Did pressing business keep him indoors on such a fine day?"

Bingley gave Elizabeth a meaningful look and replied, "Yes, I suppose it might, but I do not know if the weather is near so fine in Town today. He left yesterday at dawn on pressing matters of business but he is expected back tomorrow, or the next day."

He gave Elizabeth another look before turning his attention entirely to Jane. Elizabeth was shocked to think Darcy would have shared news of their betrothal with Mr. Bingley. She had not breathed so much as a word of it to anyone.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mr. Wickham startle and turn pale at the mention of Mr. Darcy, then smile during her discourse with Bingley. What could be the meaning of such a reaction? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.

Bingley accompanied the sisters to their Aunt Phillips's house and, although Wickham and Denny were invited to visit, they did not. Mrs. Philips did promise to have her husband call on Mr. Wickham and issue an invitation to dine the next day along with several other officers, and a plan was set for the family from Longbourn to come in the evening. Thereby, the ladies might meet with Wickham again.

Bingley accompanied them as they returned to Longbourn and monopolised Jane's time, as they frequently trailed behind. Upon entering the house, Bingley requested an audience with Mr. Bennet and a quick glance at Jane revealed she looked quite self-conscious and blushed.

Their mother immediately perceived Bingley had proposed and was requesting Mr. Bennet's blessing. She began shrieking in happiness and even ordered punch for the servants.

Among the exclamations, Elizabeth was quite alarmed to hear, "Two daughters soon to be married! My Jane with five thousand a year and Lizzy mistress of Longbourn. Yes, God has been so very good to us!"

Elizabeth attempted to hush her mother, to calm or shoo her away, but did not know how to silence her. She tried to hint at the impossibility of her accepting a proposal from Mr. Collins, but her mother refused to hear correctly. By the time Elizabeth trudged up the stairs to her chambers for the night she was exhausted.

She was surprised Bingley had proposed so soon but was excessively pleased for Jane, though less certain Jane truly knew her own heart. Elizabeth recognized she likely was considering her own feelings for Darcy in that instance. Jane had been nurturing a tender regard for Bingley since first sight, whereas Elizabeth courted prepossession and stubbornness at first. In her determined prejudice and blindness she very nearly drove reason away where Darcy was concerned, and all over her wounded vanity.

Again came the nagging concern that she was merely pleased with Darcy's attention that evening in the Netherfield library. She was now less inclined to think it was a sign of wantonness than that her vanity was soothed. She was not happy with the attentions of Mr. Collins; he was an odious man.

Elizabeth reasoned if she might elicit some sign of partiality from Wickham, who was quite handsome and amiable, then she could determine if her change in feelings towards Darcy was entirely out of vanity and gratitude for his admiration, or if there was a more genuine feeling for him. She would not flirt or forward Wickham's attachment, but as she was not yet openly engaged, neither would she vehemently discourage his attentions or dismiss him.

Elizabeth was also confused by Darcy's absence. Had he gone to Town to meet with his solicitor and begin matters already? She knew he could not be purchasing the marriage license yet, as he did not have her father's approval and she was not yet of age. Might he be away on business not related to their betrothal? If only they had taken the opportunity for a short private discussion before she left Netherfield.

She rolled over and attempted to reshape her pillow. Speculation was pointless and fruitless. He would return soon and she would then have answers. She could not help but feel annoyed at his leaving without any kind of word to her. If he was dealing with wedding business, why had he not met with her father yet? She _almost_ laughed at the thought that Darcy would deserve it completely if her father refused his blessing. Before the amusement of the thought could take root, however, she was overcome with sadness. Uncomfortable with her inability to determine her sentiments, and unable to make a joke of them, she determined to think no more of it that night.

She lay awake a whole two hours telling herself so repeatedly.

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Elizabeth found Jane alone in her room the next morning. "Jane, tell me about Mr. Bingley's proposal!"

Her sister blushed but obliged. "He is such a clever young man! We were remarking on the foliage of the path and he said he was quite enjoying the beauty of the Hertfordshire countryside."

Jane sighed a little and Elizabeth had to quell the urge to roll her eyes. It was the middle of November; there was little beauty in the countryside. Bingley was charming for the sake of being charming.

"He went on to exclaim how delighted he was with Netherfield and the Meryton area. He explained how he liked the neighbourhood and its inhabitants immensely. Then..."Jane's face took on a dazed expression.

"Jane?"

"Oh! Then he said he had a deep regard for certain locals, he would even call it love for one lady in particular. Lizzy! He looked me right in the eye, I was certain I could not breathe. You know how I am always so embarrassed to show my esteem for him, I can scarcely keep my eyes off the floor around him. But yesterday I could not look away!"

"And?"

"And...and he said..."Jane sat up a little straighter and smoothed her skirt in an effort to calm herself. "He said, 'My darling Miss Bennet, _my Jane, _you must know my deep attachment to you. I have loved you since I first clapped eyes on you. I cannot think of the future, of happiness, of having any sort of life at all without you by my side. Say you will be my wife?'"Jane fell over in a mock swoon.

"And I suppose you took the rest of the walk to think about it reasonably."Elizabeth teased.

"Lizzy! Do be serious now. Do you think I should have?"

"Of course not, dear. If you know your heart and know you love him, why must you give pause?"Jane beamed at Elizabeth's words.

"Did Mr. Bingley mention Mr. Darcy at all?"

"No, it was hardly the thing to mention at the moment."

Elizabeth laughed at herself. No, making love was not the time to mention your best friend.

Jane interrupted her thoughts. "You asked Mr. Bingley about Mr. Darcy yesterday as well. You seem uncommonly interested in him all of a sudden. What has happened?"

Elizabeth turned red. "Oh, Jane! I hardly know where to begin! But no, I am not interested in Mr. Darcy _all of a sudden_. I cannot recall a single day where my mind did not wonder about him since our first meeting. He has always roused my interest, although it has taken a positive turn lately."

Jane sat silently, awaiting more information from her sister. "While at Netherfield, he and I engaged in several debates and I came to admire the challenge he presented me. As much as I thought he always disapproved then, he treated me as an equal in our discussions. There was no snide superiority like Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst express and call it wit.

"The night before we left I could not sleep and was looking for a book in the library. Mr. Darcy was there already and you will not believe what happened next, but I swear it is the utter truth."Or at least as near to it as she was willing to tell her sister.

"He asked me to dance! He even sang so we would have a tune to keep. Jane, he sang 'The Ash Grove'."

"The song you sang at Lucas Lodge?"

"Yes!"

"Charlotte and I told you he admired you. His eyes hardly ever stray from you."

"Yes, I know."Elizabeth explained about the broken glass but did stretch the truth considerably about Darcy carrying Elizabeth to her room. "He assisted me to my door. I could have easily gone on my own, but I admit I enjoyed his nearness very much."Jane's eyes widened but she said nothing.

"But there is more! The next morning after breakfast we walked in the garden and he proposed! At first he tried to explain he felt an obligation, I suppose due to the liberties he took, but he soon admitted he greatly admires me. I refused him at first but he requested I think about it."

Elizabeth took a lengthy pause. She hoped her sister did not ask many questions because, truthfully, it made little sense. "He asked again as he handed me into the carriage when we went to leave…and I accepted."

Jane sat in astonished silence for a moment. "Lizzy, are you quite certain you wish to do this? I know you dislike him. I never thought him so disagreeable as you did but..."

"You are to remember nothing of the sort! Perhaps I did not always like him so well as now, but that is all to be forgot. A good memory in such instances is unpardonable. I am convinced I should esteem and respect him."

"But are you quite sure you feel for him what you ought? If he admires you, think of the misery of such unequal affections!"

"Indeed, I am quite convinced. I cannot explain it. I know it sounds as if I have taken leave of my senses, but I find I very much admire Mr. Darcy."

"If that is the case then I wish you joy! When is he to speak with Father?"

"Mr. Bingley said he had gone to Town on important business and should return today sometime. I hope he will call on Father tomorrow."

The sisters did not get to converse much longer before being called downstairs to begin their day.

The morning passed with more excitement than the day before, as Bingley came to call before breakfast. Even with his amiable and besotted nature, he seemed to grow vexed by Mr. Collins's continued attention. The time came for Bingley to leave so the others might visit Mrs. Phillips. Mrs. Bennet did attempt to persuade Bingley he would be welcome at her sister's, but he refused to go as Darcy was expected and neither gentleman had an invitation.

Mrs. Bennet wrung her hands in consternation. "Can you dine with us tomorrow?"

Elizabeth suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Bingley was already betrothed to Jane, and yet her mother acted as though he might vanish into thin air if she did not keep him within sight at all times.

"I should like that very much but I would not wish to leave Darcy alone for the evening. My sisters and I will be away from the house the whole day."

Mrs. Bennet's voice was a bit higher than usual, and forced, but she spoke with sufficient credibility. "Mr. Darcy is welcome here, of course. And your sisters and brother too, good sir."

"Thank you, we will be delighted. We had planned on calling tomorrow to issue invitations to the ball at any rate. Darcy can easily come with us."

At the third mention of the name Darcy, Mr. Collins perked up. "Is this Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire?"

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Collins nearly trembled in delight. "He is the nephew of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh!"

Bingley tried manfully to stifle a groan. Elizabeth recognised the reaction but was surprised by its strength. Bingley was usually very amiable and could survive any antics her family put forward, surely he could bear Collins for a few minutes, even on such a topic.

"When you next see him please be sure to tell him I had the certain knowledge that Lady Catherine and his cousin were in the very best of health only three days ago."

"I am certain he will be delighted to hear it."

"Indeed, I am sure as well. For who cannot feel a great concern for the magnanimous condescension of her ladyship, and I know Mr. Darcy will be particularly interested in hearing of his cousin, Mis..."

Bingley interrupted. "I thank you most sincerely for my friend, Mr. Collins. Perhaps you might refrain from more until you have a _quiet moment_ with him yourself tomorrow evening. I can never do your words justice and my friend deserves to hear them for himself."

Mr. Collins seemed vastly pleased with the suggestion, but Bingley looked decidedly uncomfortable. Elizabeth watched and listened to it all with fascination, she could not tell if Bingley simply wished for Collins to quit speaking or if it was the particular topic that concerned him. Soon her concentration was broken when her family was called to depart and farewell Bingley until the morrow.

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At Mrs. Phillips's house Elizabeth awaited the entry of the gentlemen. Mr. Wickham was certainly a handsome man and cut a fine figure. When they met him the day before, he seemed amiable and good-natured. She was still excessively curious about his reaction to the mention of Darcy and his accent carried the Derbyshire inflection, as acquainted as she was with it from her aunt's voice. There was still the matter of her vanity—she desired to lay that issue to rest and see whether another gentleman could affect her in the way Mr. Darcy did.

Mr. Wickham was the happy man upon whom nearly every female eye was turned. Elizabeth was the woman with whom he chose to sit and converse.

"Miss Elizabeth, a pleasure to meet with you again. I was delighted to make your acquaintance yesterday."

Elizabeth was surprised he would single her out so directly but he was not too forward. She answered neutrally, for she did not wish to give him too much encouragement. "I thank you for the compliment, Mr. Wickham. It is always enjoyable to make a new acquaintance."

"It was the prospect of constant good society that was my inducement to enter the corps. Society, I own, is necessary to me. After meeting several of Denny's agreeable friends yesterday,"here he gave her a look she could not understand, "I was duly settled on the idea of taking a commission."

Elizabeth smiled at his approval of Meryton and the area's inhabitants. "I hope you will find your stay most enjoyable."

"I dare say I will, although a military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession—I was brought up for it, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living."

"Indeed!"

Elizabeth tried to quell her impudent curiosity, but Wickham had an engaging manner and made her feel that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of speaker. She could not help but compare him to Darcy, from whom it seemed rather a labour for him to speak ten words at a time. Yet immediately recollections of their gaiety and laughter in the Netherfield library sprang to mind. She smiled unguardedly.

When she looked back at her companion he seemed on the verge of speaking, though looked at her a bit nonplussed. Before either could say more they heard Lydia upbraiding Mary, who had been playing at the pianoforte.

"Mary, enough of your concertos! Play something we can dance to!"

Mary gave her sister a cross look, but conceded. "Very well, although you know it gives me little pleasure."Soon the chords of a happy reel rang out in the room.

Wickham smiled enticingly at Elizabeth and held out his hand. "Might I have the honour, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth smiled in return, though she noticed Wickham's smile lacked the beguiling dimples of another man she knew. "Certainly, Mr. Wickham."

She held her breath. This was just the sort of test for which she hoped. It was an informal gathering and no one was wearing full gloves. When he took her hand and led her to the dance floor she felt no secret thrill, and yet it appeared he was doing his best to provoke such sensations. As the dance went on, she could have sworn his hands lingered longer than necessary at every joining and turn, and she felt a decided irritation at his presumption.

She could hardly comprehend it. He was handsome and charming; she ought to enjoy his instant preferment, but all the time she wished she was dancing with Darcy. He seemed to have noticed her decreasing good temper and broke their silence.

"Come now, Miss Elizabeth. We must have some conversation."

"This is a very agreeable dance, although I am less inclined to like reels than my sister."She found herself remembering when Miss Bingley played a reel one night at Netherfield and Darcy had asked her to dance. At the time she had thought he only desired to mock her taste but now she hoped, she _wished,_ that he had actually desired to dance with her.

Mr. Wickham answered with the usual meaningless civility. Then, glancing around the room and seeing Jane standing alone he added, "We are a merry group of couples but I see your eldest sister is unpaired. I am surprised Mr. Bingley is not here this evening; he seemed very much taken with her yesterday."

Elizabeth beamed as she thought of her sister's happiness. "Mr. Bingley did call upon us earlier, but he chose to stay home this evening to greet his friend returning from town."

Wickham nodded his head. "A Mr. Darcy, if I recall correctly."

"Yes."

"Might he be Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire?"

Elizabeth's surprise was great, for it seemed Wickham already knew Darcy, confirming at least one suspicion she held since yesterday. "Indeed."

"How long has Mr. Darcy been in the country?"

"About a month."

"And are you very much acquainted with the man?"

Elizabeth turned her face in an attempt to not look too aware. "Who can claim to be much acquainted after a few weeks?"

Elizabeth was acutely conscious that until only a few days ago she firmly believed she could sketch a person's character after a much shorter time. She had been firm in believing Darcy proud and disagreeable from observing his behaviour at the assembly alone, and refused to acknowledge seeing anything that would counter it—until their night in the library.

"You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that man than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy."

Elizabeth instinctively knew she had no desire to learn more of Darcy through this man. "Mr. Wickham, I assure you that you can have nothing to say about that gentleman that will be of any interest to me."

He seemed to understand she was reprimanding him. "Forgive me, madam. It was only brought to mind as we were speaking of couples and I wondered what might take him to Town just now and thought, perhaps, it was his marriage to his cousin, Miss de Bourgh."

The words were ill-timed on his part, for the dance required they part just then, and he missed the satisfaction of seeing Elizabeth pale. She was able to affect composure by the time she returned to him.

"Indeed? I have heard nothing of it."

"He is a man who values his privacy."

"Then we had much better quit speaking of him."

"I suppose you are correct. Tell me, are there any other impending announcements in the area?"

Believing he meant Jane and Bingley she smiled a little. "Perhaps, but we had better wait for such things to become generally known."

"I wish you very happy with your cousin, then. I believe I heard him say Lady Catherine de Bourgh is his patroness. She is a great lady, capable of doing much for him in the church. And you must know that she is the sister to the late Lady Anne Darcy. She is Mr. Darcy's aunt and her daughter is his presumed betrothed. Miss de Bourgh will inherit vast wealth. Together they will unite two great estates."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "You are mistaken, Mr. Wickham. Mr. Collins is quite unattached."

The song ended before they could say another word, and his attention was immediately seized by Lydia. Elizabeth was not sorry for it. She disliked his overly-familiar attention and the insufferable presumption he made that she was destined for her cousin. She felt no growing regard for the man at all. She had a strong intuition that Wickham was not as good-natured as he appeared, but she vowed to not make hasty judgments of people any longer, deciding to further the acquaintance with caution. At least she had managed to realise her feelings for Darcy must be deeper than mere flattered vanity.

**Any guesses on what Darcy is doing? Next update is on Sunday!**


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for all the reads, follows, favorites and reviews! Darcy's returned from London!

**Ch. 4**

"How was your trip, Darcy?" Bingley asked once he and his friend were alone in the Netherfield study. He offered to pour Darcy a glass of brandy but was refused.

"As you see, quite brief. I was able to draw up the settlement papers with my solicitor. I doubt Mr. Bennet will desire to make many changes. The special licence required some carefully-placed words and making the most of my family's connections with the Archbishop, but I was able to meet with him faster than most and have the licence in hand, even without Mr. Bennet's written permission."

"It sounds as if everything went according to your plans."

It truly had. He did have some misgivings about obtaining the special license through less than correct means, but there was no time to waste. One reason for a hasty marriage was in case a child was the product of his actions; the other was a very real need to attend to some matters at Pemberley. He had scarcely been there since the early summer and there were affairs that needed his personal attention.

Misgivings aside, his stay in London went well. He was even able to keep his presence in Town hidden from his relations. Aside from his meetings, which did take up considerable time, he filled his days with quiet reflections on his life. He was an adept at feeling guilt and would, naturally, not forgive himself easily, if ever.

Turning his thoughts, he addressed Bingley. "Have you called on Longbourn?"

Bingley turned his face a little. "I have."

Darcy was intrigued by his reaction and levelled his friend a look.

"I have asked Jane Bennet to marry me and sought her father's blessing."

"What?" Darcy cried in confusion.

He would have counselled his friend against it. He never saw Bingley's attention remain on any woman for more than two months. What did Bingley even know of Jane? Their conversations were all polite discourse on trivia, such as games of whist and the superb dish served by Lady Lucas, replete with smiles in abundance. But it was too late. A gentleman did not break an engagement.

"Darcy, you heard Mr. Black's sermon. I know you would say I am guilty of those sinful thoughts about many ladies and you would be correct, but I do it so much more with Jane and it is different. I truly believe I love her. If I walk away because she is not wealthy enough or because of her family, as Caroline and Louisa encourage me to do, would not I be making a mockery of marriage? My honour has no other choice."

Darcy was surprised to hear words that matched his own convictions so closely. In another moment, he decided he was not surprised at such honesty; Bingley was his friend and confidant for a reason, after all.

"I was honest with Mr. Bennet. I explained my convictions and how the sermon affected me. I asked for a short engagement, I...the temptation is great and I could not bear to dishonour her. He only laughed at me."

Darcy could easily believe it of the man. He hoped he would not need to be forceful with Mr. Bennet to be allowed to marry Elizabeth quickly. Darcy wondered where the ridiculousness of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet ended.

There was little to say after Bingley's sincere explanation of his just intentions. Darcy was tired from his journey from London. The friends soon retired to their chambers to sleep.

%%%%%

The next day, Darcy's palms were sweating as he rode in his carriage to Longbourn with Hurst. Bingley and his sisters had called on the neighbourhood to issue invitations to the ball they were hosting the following week. Darcy chose not to join them. He planned to confess his actions to Mr. Bennet. He could not spend all day with strangers in the neighborhood and then hope to survive Mr. Bennet, and, if he were not thrown out directly, be civil for the rest of the afternoon with the Bennet family as they hosted the Netherfield party for dinner.

He genuinely thought he might be ill. He had not confessed to another of a wrongdoing in a very long time. In fact, as a child, the majority of the offences for which he was punished were in truth the petty boyhood misdemeanours of George Wickham. Even as a child, Wickham was proficient at charming his betters and placing blame on Darcy. Obviously, none of the infractions were near the sin of seducing a gentleman's daughter. He clenched his fists as he thought of the man who attempted to ruin his sister, the sister he had raised for the last five years. _If I ever see him again..._

Darcy was startled from his thoughts by their arrival at Longbourn. Much sooner than he would have liked, he was speaking to the housekeeper and requesting a private audience with Mr. Bennet. He was invited to wait in the drawing-room for a moment, and he was certain he felt akin to those facing the gallows.

When he and Hurst were announced, Darcy noted the presence of several of the militia officers in addition to his own party. He dared not meet any eye in the room, for he doubted his wickedness could be concealed for very long after he told the truth to Mr. Bennet. He knew the Bennets would look on him with disgust. He had not spoken to, or even seen, Elizabeth since her acceptance of his proposal outside of Netherfield.

He was just determining to at least _look _at her when he heard a familiar voice that made his heart stop. He turned to see Wickham, the man who had been a scourge in his life for twenty years, sitting beside _his _Elizabeth—much too closely—and trying to whisper in her ear! His blood boiled, but he was instantly calmed by a desire to protect her even more than possess her.

Time slowed as he saw Wickham look at him with a haughty and smug expression. Elizabeth turned her head too; she seemed shocked to see him, as she evidently had not heard him be announced. She smiled slightly at him before an anxious and possibly displeased expression crossed her face.

Darcy blinked rapidly as the amused voice of Mr. Bennet broke through the haze in his brain.

"Mr. Darcy, are you unwell? You have not moved or answered me these many times I have called your name."

Darcy faced him with a hint of instability in his voice. "Forgive me. I am quite well."

Mr. Bennet paused and seemed to expect more by way of an answer; when he received none he invited Darcy into his library.

Darcy stared at the port poured before him and, although his nerves would have enjoyed the fortifying effect, he did not believe he would allow more than a glass of wine with dinner to cross his lips ever again.

The two men sat in silence before Mr. Bennet ventured, "Mr. Darcy, you requested this meeting."

With sweat forming on his brow, Darcy nodded his head. He could not remain seated and chose to pace around the room, to the obvious satisfaction of his companion. _Out with it man! Every minute I spend in here is a minute more she is subjected to Wickham._

He was determined.

"First, may I speak with you on a matter involving one of your guests?"

Bennet nodded his assent.

With a voice full of vehemence he said, "Mr. Wickham, the man nestled so nicely next to your second daughter, is an utter libertine. Wickham has the appearance of a fine fellow, but he leaves a trail of seduced ladies—or worse—everywhere he goes."

Mr. Bennet looked at him with an eyebrow arched in scepticism.

Realising words that could be little more than gossip were not enough, Darcy hastily, but quietly, explained. "One near victim was my sister. She was but fifteen at the time. She is the last of my family and I am her guardian. I was deceived by her companion, who was in collusion with him, and Wickham nearly convinced Georgiana to elope with him. She is to inherit thirty thousand pounds, which he sought to fund his dissolute inclinations. An heiress is the only sort of lady he would ever consider marrying, but I have known him to seduce or force himself on several maidens by implying marriage, but abandoning them with no means of enticing him into matrimony. Although I believe he targeted my sister out of a desire for revenge on private matters, I would charge you to protect your daughters by all means possible."

Mr. Bennet looked amused and Darcy repressed his frustration that his companion did not take him seriously.

"I thank you for your timely information, young man, but I take it that is not why you came to see me today."

Darcy tried not to feel affronted at Mr. Bennet's demeanour. Hopefully the man would understand Darcy's concerns over Wickham's attentions to a Bennet lady once the engagement was explained.

"Mr. Bennet," Darcy spoke with authority and the older gentleman straightened to attention. "Four days ago I asked for your daughter Elizabeth's hand in marriage and she accepted. I have already been to Town to begin the process of the settlement." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small packet of papers.

Mr. Bennet sat in stunned silence as Darcy placed the papers on his desk. "I can leave these for you to peruse; I suggest you do not tarry over them. You will see that she will be amply provided for, as befits her new station. I will not withhold what is due the Mistress of Pemberley; despite her lack of fortune, she will want for nothing."

Mr. Bennet seemed to grow irritated, but Darcy ploughed forward. "I also met with the Archbishop—he is a friend of the family—and have procured a special licence…"

"What is the meaning of all this, _Mr. _Darcy? I cannot believe Elizabeth consented to marry you and you importune me with this overbearing display. A special licence without my consent! And next you will demand to marry her in a week's time and steal away with her?"

Darcy looked Mr. Bennet in the eye. "It is _necessary _and _prudent_, sir." Darcy doubted he could say more and hoped Mr. Bennet would understand his meaning.

The two men locked eyes for a moment as a variety of emotions flashed across Bennet's eyes, particularly disbelief and anger. He slumped back in his chair.

"No. It cannot be."

"I assure you, I am the last man who wants to admit this, but I am guilty of…"

"Of?"

Darcy let out a short breath. "Come Mr. Bennet. You are a man, and her father. Do you really want me to explain fully?"

"I must speak with Elizabeth."

Darcy was growing annoyed with Mr. Bennet. He was taking an honourable action while a practiced rake sat in the drawing-room free of reproach. "If you mean to try and change her mind, I should inform you she agreed to this betrothal with no coercion from me. But, by all means call her in."

"Alone!" Mr. Bennet snapped.

"As you wish, sir. Allow me to explain. Miss Elizabeth is the only woman of whom I have even had such thoughts, and I am perfectly happy to submit to my duty and marry her. Indeed, I should have felt an obligation to her for many weeks now. You may be assured I will treat her with all due honour and respect as my wife."

Before either man could say anything further, a gentleman's voice cried out in alarm followed by the wails of several ladies from the drawing room. Fearing the worst, Darcy nearly ran to the adjacent room. Mr. Bennet was hard on his heels.

Arriving in the drawing-room, they saw Elizabeth wave off the notice of the room. Darcy stopped just short of Elizabeth. She stood near Wickham, who was covered in what appeared to be uncomfortably hot tea all over his lap, and he was angrily glaring at her.

"Oh dear! I hope I have not ruined your clothing. They do say a gentleman is known by his fashion."

She dropped her voice in words meant only for Wickham, "And now your _disgustingly soiled _clothes match your lack of gentlemanly behaviour perfectly. Had not your actions just betrayed you so clearly, I had already recognized you for a blackguard and a liar. How dare you try to impugn Mr. Darcy's honour in this house!"

Darcy and Bennet were near enough to hear the quiet speech to Wickham, and Darcy was ready to speak when Mr. Bennet clapped a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Wickham, allow me to call my valet to assist you with your clothing before taking your _leave_."

Wickham looked surprised, but after looking at Darcy seemed to accept his fate. "I thank you, Mr. Bennet, but that will not be necessary." He bolted from the room, with his fellow officers trailing behind.

%%%%%

Mr. Bennet turned to Elizabeth. "I would speak with you immediately."

She only nodded and her father spun on his heel towards his library. Turning to Darcy, she quickly asked, "You told him the truth?"

"Disguise of every sort is my abhorrence."

"Everything?"

"He knows it all." Elizabeth blushed, but Darcy squeezed her hand. "The fault was mine entirely. You have no cause for shame."

She smiled a little and glanced around the room. The officers were gone, which allowed Bingley to become the sole focus of her mother, though he was doggedly attempting private conversation with Jane. Kitty and Lydia were in secret conference, tittering, no doubt about the young men who had just left. Miss Bingley was looking about the room in disgust while her sister played with her jewelry. Mr. Hurst seemed satisfied with his supply of pre-dinner wine, and Mr. Collins seemed ready to burst across the room in order to speak with Mr. Darcy.

"You will be well?"

Darcy chuckled. "I do not see any sharp teeth or claws amongst your family. I do think I will survive. Should they prove too unruly I will attempt to offer up Bingley as sacrifice."

This jest earned him musical laughter from Elizabeth. She was astonished to think he could lift her spirits so easily. Shaking her head, she left for her father's study.

%%%%%

"Are you out of your senses to be accepting this man?"

Elizabeth winced at her father's angry tone but mused silently, _no, it is my senses of which I am now acutely aware. My sense of sight, scent, hearing, feeling, tasting are all uncommonly aroused by him._ She blushed deeply.

_Taste? _She attempted to tell herself her mind only meant that she enjoyed dining in his company, and not that she desired to taste his lips.

"Elizabeth!" She jumped. She had been too preoccupied to hear her father's words.

After she met his eyes he continued, "Mr. Darcy says you accepted his proposal."

"Yes."

"While at Netherfield."

She blushed a little. "Yes."

"_Because _of Netherfield?"

Blushing so red she thought she might faint from the heat on her face, she replied, "Yes."

Her father stared at her silently for several moments. A few times he began to open his mouth, but when no sound was forthcoming he would close it again.

She knew not how she countenanced bringing such obvious displeasure to her father, and could only attempt to alleviate his concerns.

"It was an accident and Mr. Darcy is doing precisely the honourable thing. He is not the proud and haughty man I thought he was. I feel...I _know _he is worthy of my esteem and admiration."

"You cannot possibly think he is a gentleman!"

"But he is! I was only too proud to see it through my wounded vanity."

"Exactly! Your opinion improves as you are flattered."

"No, Papa. He respects me and treats my opinions equally. He is intelligent and can be perfectly amiable. Before leaving Netherfield I heard several servants praising him. He is a generous master and landlord, very conscientious to the needs of others."

"You did not accept him due to obligation?"

"Only...only a little."

"I confess I cannot begin to understand how such a thing is possible, and from you!"

She grew pink-faced again, but honestly replied, "I should have left the library directly but I was astonished by how playful and amiable he was. He insisted we dance, which was intoxicating, and when we were finished I went to leave and he knocked over a glass, breaking it. I was so foolish as to cut myself trying to clean it up. The..." She paused and decided to stretch the truth a bit. "The sight of my blood made me feel light-headed and Mr. Darcy tenderly helped stop the bleeding, and assisted me to my chamber door. I should have insisted I go from the library on my own, but he was so attentive I could not refuse."

Her father startled for a moment and paused, seeming to take in all of Elizabeth's words, a look of wonder passing his face. "Elizabeth, I desire to be perfectly clear here. He left you at your door?"

"Of course!" Elizabeth supposed it was only natural for a father to be suspicious of a man who confessed to taking liberties with his daughter. Undoubtedly, her father would desire reassurance from her as well.

"But then why do you feel obligated to him?"

Elizabeth reddened further. How dearly she wished for this interview to be over! "I confess..." She took a deep breath and blew it out. "I confess that I enjoyed his attentions."

"Due to your vanity?"

"Certainly not! I...I know the difference between shallow attention and genuine attachment. What I feel for Mr. Darcy is beyond what I have ever felt before; it is not gratitude for his attention or professed admiration."

"Admiration?"

How like Darcy to keep his feelings private and only express the facts!

Smiling a little she answered, "Yes, the morning he proposed he confessed to having admired me all along." She chuckled and added, "Even as he spoke only of duty for the liberties he took. He caught me entirely unawares and I declared his offer unnecessary. After church he asked again and, having had time to properly consult my own feelings, I accepted him."

A sly grin slipped across Mr. Bennet's face. "You rejected him at first?"

"I did!"

"And you say he asked again _after _church?" Elizabeth saw her father was clearly piecing a puzzle together, but she could not fathom what it was.

"Yes."

"And you do like him?"

"I do!"

"And you wish for this union?"

"Yes, if anything I feel even more certain with each day."

"I am glad I was mistaken, dear child. Do you know he has bought a special licence? I believe he wishes to marry very quickly? He must worry you will change your mind again!"

Elizabeth grew alarmed that Darcy might be suffering from such a misapprehension. Her father understood instantly and said, "You may go to him, then, and reassure him."

"Thank you, Papa." In an instant she was gone.

%%%%%

Elizabeth found Darcy in the drawing room looking uneasy but attempting to be part of the rapid and noisy conversation around him. She also saw Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst fawning over Darcy. Desiring some privacy with him she made a general suggestion to the room.

"Perhaps we might all go on a walk in the garden before dinner?"

Bingley seized upon the idea. "Indeed! It is a splendid day!" He stood and offered one arm to Jane and then another to his sister. Caroline grimaced but began to take his arm.

"My dear Miss Bingley! Are you unwell? Truly your face looks painfully contorted," Mrs. Bennet observed.

Like a trained actress Caroline's hands flew to her head. "Oh! A sudden headache." Elizabeth had to choke back her laughter.

"You had much better stay here and rest then."

Bingley looked at his sister in genuine concern but Mrs. Hurst hastily explained while walking to her sister's side. "Oh, we would hate to inconvenience you. Let us call for the carriage and Mr. Hurst and I will accompany my sister home."

Miss Bingley remarked, "I am terribly sorry to spoil our dinner. I did so look forward to enjoying your table again, Mrs. Bennet."

Beaming like a pleased peacock, Mrs. Bennet replied, "Oh, you give me a great compliment! I invite you to come any night this week of your convenience, then. I know dear Jane loves to spend more time with her future sisters."

Caroline gave Louisa an incensed look that Elizabeth took to mean Bingley had not announced his betrothal to Jane. Elizabeth was relieved to see Mrs. Hurst took the news with some equanimity.

Caroline broke the silence. "We thank you, Mrs. Bennet, but I am afraid my sister and I will be much engaged in the coming days preparing for the ball."

"Oh, yes, the ball!"

"Might you call for the carriage?" Mrs. Hurst saved the room from more effusions of Mrs. Bennet.

After several more minutes the Hursts and Miss Bingley stood ready to depart while the others put on their outerwear.

"Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet called out. "Was not I clever the way I got rid of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst?"

"Mamma!"

"Now you know the younger girls will talk amongst themselves. You must go with Mr. Darcy to keep him from being in Bingley's way. I am sorry, for I know you dislike the man so much, but there is nothing to be done for it. I had planned to send you with Mr. Collins but he had a letter to write Lady Catherine after meeting Mr. Darcy."

Her words were not quiet enough for Elizabeth heard a strangling sound and turned to see Mr. Darcy only a few feet from them. He clearly heard every word!

Mrs. Bennet did not even have the good grace to blush and left the two in the hall.

In a voice of forced civility Darcy said, "Do you consider yourself an obedient daughter, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth reached for Darcy's extended arm and raised her chin in defiance. "No, my mother often bemoans my recalcitrant and headstrong ways."

Darcy's lip turned up in amusement and he directed her outside. "What makes you take my arm then?"

She gave him a sly look. "I desired privacy with my betrothed."

She was rewarded with a full smile revealing his dimples and perfectly white teeth. She had to suppress a sigh. The contentment did not last long as Darcy placed his free hand over hers and squeezed it. Elizabeth was amazed at the continued effect his touch had on her.

"You cannot know how much I enjoy hearing those words from your lips, Elizabeth."

Between his touch and calling her by her Christian name her heart rate accelerated and she blushed but tried to appear calm. His gaze travelled to her lips and she shivered.

"Here, let us walk in the sun to warm you."

They walked on in companionable silence for several moments until Elizabeth felt the need to break it. "Mr. Darcy…"

He stopped walking and faced her. His actions silenced her.

"William, please."

She startled at first and then shyly murmured, "William."

She heard him take in a sharp breath of air and stepped closer to her, taking her left hand in his. Darcy's scent, something unnamable, mixed with soap and spices and that she had only ever noticed on him, made her feel light headed.

Darcy gazed into her eyes and all other things blurred from her sight. His eyes dropped to her lips again and she understood the longing she saw in them.

"Elizabeth." She almost moaned at her name spoken so lowly from him. They were very close now and she gasped when he turned her hand over to stroke her palm.

It was impossible to conceal her rapid breathing and when she looked back into his eyes she saw them dark and his pupils very wide.

A rabbit hopped by them, making enough noise to remind them of their position. When Elizabeth made to move again she felt as though her legs were as liquid as pudding. She was very grateful when he led her to a nearby bench.

He did not relinquish her hand from his.

"Elizabeth."

"William."

They spoke simultaneously and both stopped short, sharing an amused smile.

"Please, continue." Darcy told Elizabeth.

"William, I am a very selfish creature and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours."

He looked at her in alarm and she could see that she truly needed to say this. Squeezing his hand with her free one until he met her eye again, although his gaze held uncertainty behind it, she waited.

"We have both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as to make you fearful that I might have been insincere in my acceptance. I consider myself entirely obligated to you."

He cringed at her final words. Earlier in the hall he had believed Mrs. Bennet was being her usual ridiculous self when she said Elizabeth disliked him but his heart sank to hear her only speak of her moral obligation due to _his _actions. Last week, in desperation to dismiss the evidence of his actions, he had declared to himself that Elizabeth did not love him, but it was still exceedingly difficult to hear she did not love him as he loved her.

_As I love her?_ He looked at their still joined hands and knew nothing had ever felt more perfect in his life.

_Yes. I love her. _Straightening a little and with a determined set in his jaw he mentally added, _And I will earn her love as well._

"I am sorry, for your sake, that it is so necessary; that my selfish behaviour made it necessary. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice. I was taught right and given good principles but I followed them in pride and conceit. I was allowed and encouraged to become selfish and overbearing, to think meanly of the rest of the world's sense and worth compared to my own. But I have been humbled by you. I see how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.

"Painful memories of my conduct to you, which merit the severest reproof, will intrude. My actions were unpardonable and I cannot think of it without abhorrence."

"William, you must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure." She almost laughed at his reaction. He stared at her with a dumbfounded expression.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Darcy could scarce believe his ears. _Pleasure? I brought her pleasure that night?_

Before he had recovered from his shock, Elizabeth was tugging on his hand. He was only minimally aware that they walked into the house. All during dinner he was equally affected. Every time he so much as glanced at her he felt entranced by her mouth, recalling again her thrilling declaration. He had been affected when she first pronounced his Christian name but nothing could compare to her pronouncement of _pleasure._

It was not just the thought that he had pleased her that threatened to undo him at the dinner table amongst her family. Her mouth had parted enticingly, her delicate pink tongue had flicked up to the top of her mouth and the final syllable sounded like a caress.

_Her mouth! Those perfect lips! That tongue! What had it felt like? _Being intimately acquainted with his thoughts and fantasies for the last several weeks he had no delusions that he had indulged in _nearly _every fantasy he held of Elizabeth. _Velvet_, he was sure of it. Her tongue would have felt like velvet on his.

He loosened his cravat as he tried to master his thoughts. It would not do to wonder if he had tasted her skin. Even still, some deep carnal drive told him he _must _do so some day lest he die.

He gave his future mother-in-law some mundane praise for her skills as a hostess. She tittered and fawned with a shrill voice but it did not affect him in the least. His mind was much more agreeably engaged.

His eyes met Elizabeth's. _What had her fine, bewitching eyes looked like when she took her __pleasure_?

Undeniably that was his new favorite word. Was it his imagination or was Elizabeth colouring quite becomingly under his gaze? Did she meet his eyes with a shy smile? She lightly licked her lips before speaking to Bingley and Darcy thought he might jump across the table to kiss her.

He did jump when a hand clapped him on his shoulder and his mind registered Mr. Bennet's words. "Son, it is time to leave the ladies."

His voice sounded alien. "Certainly."

As the door to Mr. Bennet's library closed he said to Darcy, "I think that special license was perhaps a better idea than I first gave you credit for." It was clearly a reprimand but Mr. Bennet sounded amused as well.

Darcy wondered why Mr. Bennet would be amused at the need for a special license when it was because his daughter's virtue had been stolen. Mr. Bennet had rallied to the point of anger easily enough earlier and acted quickly to purge Wickham from his household.

Darcy's lust-drugged mind was not to its usual sharpness. Instead, he could only consider it another peculiarity of Elizabeth's father. They agreed on a wedding in a week's time as Darcy had business to complete in London and then Pemberley in early December.

As Elizabeth escorted him outside to part for the evening he leaned in close enough to speak only for her ears. _Adorable ears_.

"Today was very enjoyable. Might I have the pleasure of calling on you again tomorrow, Elizabeth?"

She blushed but agreed. "The pleasure would be all mine, William."

As he boarded his coach one word resounded in his ears to drown out Bingley's chatter of his angel. _Pleasure!_

Next post is coming on Wednesday! Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to everyone that's reading! I got a bunch of e-mails for reviews and now most of them are missing, I'm guessing FFN is having problems, so I'm sorry if I haven't replied to your review yet.

Thanks to my betas Jim, Linda B., Peculiarlady, Candice and Rosie J. Any mistakes are my own and anything that sounds like JA is.

**Ch. 5**

Elizabeth sat in a chair embroidering a new handkerchief and looking out her window, sighing. It was the fourth day rain. The Netherfield ball was on the morrow and her wedding—which she was still astonished to think about—in only three days. There was so much rain that walking to Meryton was impossible, visits from certain Netherfield gentlemen even more so. The entire household was cross and at odds with each other. Mr. Bennet could not be persuaded to leave his book room for anything but a meal and to slumber. Six women in one house with no outside amusement for four days was a dangerous thing and something he had learned to avoid at all costs.

Elizabeth was, in fact, hiding from her family. The one consolation to be had for Darcy not being able to visit for the duration of the rains was that he had not been subjected to her mother's wedding-preparation antics. Of course, Mrs. Bennet was made worse, for the rain prevented her from going out to brag and shop herself instead of by proxy. Elizabeth smiled wryly and wondered if the Netherfield inhabitants fared any better with the Bingley sisters preparing for tomorrow's ball. She imagined Mr. Hurst becoming quite friendly with a bottle of port, Darcy hiding in the library or billiards room, and even the amiable Mr. Bingley becoming vexed by his sisters.

At first, Elizabeth resented the underhanded arrangement Darcy and her father had come to in declaring the wedding date without consulting her. One week's time! Whoever heard of such a thing? And the man actually_ had_ purchased a special licence during his stay in London. Her father explained Darcy's statement regarding the quick marriage. Mr. Bennet agreed it was prudent and Elizabeth could not help but blush at his look of reprimand. Darcy also claimed it was necessary due to his commitments in London and Pemberley in December and any protestations she had were drowned by her mother, who feared Darcy would simply cry off if he could not have his way. However, after an hour or two of her mother's flutterings, Elizabeth privately admitted to a certain amount of sense—and relief!—in not prolonging the engagement and the wedding plans. Undoubtedly the desire for peace was her father's motivation for allowing Darcy to have his way on the wedding date. In truth, she could hardly blame either of them. There was no time for wedding clothes, however, and that made her mother exceedingly cross.

But every cry of despair was followed by happy exclamations for Elizabeth's match to such a wealthy gentleman. Jane's engagement would be a more normal length, which consoled their mother. Mrs. Bennet could indulge in _that_ wedding's preparations to her heart's delight. Still, Elizabeth would have liked to have been involved in the decision, and to have voiced her displeasure over the entire affair to her betrothed, whom she had not seen since this accursed rain started.

Mr. Collins's behaviour throughout was most unusual. While Darcy was in London, he had professed his extreme interest in meeting the man from Derbyshire, the esteemed nephew of his noble patroness. The day following Darcy and Bingley's visit to Longbourn, upon noting the weather and the impossibility of Darcy calling, Mr. Bennet had announced the engagement between Darcy and Elizabeth to the family at breakfast. Mr. Collins was undeniably shocked, disbelieving, and agitated.

Elizabeth had taken to not paying her cousin any mind and only noticed there was something murmured about Collins thinking Darcy engaged to Anne de Bourgh. Receiving assurances from Mr. Bennet that Darcy brought a marriage settlement and had a special licence in hand, Mr. Collins reluctantly appeared to accept the betrothal, but ceased trying to ingratiate himself with the Bennets. In fact, he spent more time in his room, as though convinced Lady Catherine would materialise in Longbourn's drawing room any moment and berate him for daring to socialise with his hosts.

Earlier in the day he had mistakenly perceived a break in the rain and most unwisely walked to Meryton to post a letter which could not wait until the morrow. The break was momentary, and the steady downpour resumed before he had so much as reached the edge of Longbourn's paddock. Mr. Collins continued to Meryton regardless. He now rested in his room, and Elizabeth suspected it would not be long before he succumbed to the chill that was taking hold even as he returned.

_Yet another person convinced of a prior engagement. _This was another subject Elizabeth desperately wished she could discuss with Darcy. She was not overly concerned there was any truth to the claims. Darcy would never offer for her if his honour were bound elsewhere. Wickham had quickly proved an unreliable cad, between his attempts at taking liberties—in plain view of her family!—while claiming Darcy cheated him of a valuable living.

Mr. Collins was simply ridiculous and there was little sense to be gained in a single thing he said on any topic. Elizabeth certainly knew how gossip spread, how a determined mother might claim a gentleman for her daughter without that man ever knowing, as her mother claimed Mr. Bingley before even laying eyes on him!

Still, Elizabeth conceded her vanity needed the reassurance of hearing Darcy deny the engagement with Miss de Bourgh. She was his cousin and the heiress to a grand estate—more truly his equal in circumstance and rank. Darcy had said he did not desire those things in a marriage, but it was difficult to believe any attachment he developed in the last six weeks was a fair exchange. Elizabeth did not doubt him, even though society would not understand his attachment. She also wondered how many expected the engagement between Darcy and his cousin, as it seemed Bingley had interrupted Mr. Collins from alluding to it during one of his earlier visits.

At dinner the previous Thursday his eyes scarcely left her. The gaze she once believed was disapproving she quickly discerned was quite the opposite. She could not profess to understand his mind in the least, but the look in his eye had seemed so much more than mere happiness at their betrothal, nor was it simple admiration. It was very similar to his look that evening in the Netherfield library as he stroked her hands. His eyes were so deep she thought she would drown in them, and his gaze made her feel warm, as if marked, branded as his. She could not cease blushing at the thought, but was secretly pleased by his obvious passion. Despite her annoyance at matters at home and the abrupt wedding date, she was endlessly intrigued by the new sensations Fitzwilliam Darcy provoked in her, with only a look.

_Tomorrow we dance._

Elizabeth shivered at the thought, so distracted from her embroidery that she pushed the needle through the fabric vigorously, stabbing her finger. She was forever doing so and while it did not hurt, she bled easily. She hastily jerked her hand away before soiling the clean cloth. She fumbled to find her own handkerchief. She detested the taste of blood and while it might be natural for others to staunch the flow with their mouth, she preferred to hold her hand tightly until she was able to find a cloth.

By the time one was located the droplet of blood grew large and created a smear on the white linen of her handkerchief. She was forever soiling handkerchiefs due to needlework injury, thus forever needing to sew new ones, an endless cycle. She laughed to herself. _What will William think of me when he sees I spend all my pin money on ready-made handkerchiefs so I can spare my poor, clumsy fingers?_

"Lizzzzzzzzzy!" Lydia's shrill voice broke her solitude. She exited her room heaving a sigh, and joined her family below.

%%%%%

Darcy peered outside the window of his bedchamber at Netherfield. _More rain._

It was positively unbearable. Bingley's sisters, as disgruntled as they were about hosting the ball, were working themselves into a frenzy, becoming quite cross with everyone and everything. Bingley was entirely put out by not being able to visit Longbourn. Darcy's feelings were mixed.

He longed to see Elizabeth. He had always found the greatest satisfaction just gazing at her. Of course, he also enjoyed their banter and debates. It could hardly be a surprise that he was captivated by a woman who could match him so completely in a game of wits.

But he was in no better state of control over his distraction in her presence than before; if anything it was worse. During the dinner at Longbourn he was rather improper and entertained decidedly lascivious thoughts. _In front of Elizabeth's family!_ Oh, her father knew, he _certainly_ knew, but at least he had accepted a hasty wedding. Darcy had to own it was the most enjoyable evening he had ever passed in the presence of the Bennet family…certainly one way to cope with them!

But his feelings were more than that now. He appreciated her feminine charms from nearly their first meeting. He valued her mind and respected her opinion from their first interaction. He loved all of those things about her. But now he knew he loved the complete _her_. Holding her hand, even the one memory he had of her being in his arms, brought contentment and peace. And it astonished him.

He chuckled. Truly, it should come as no surprise. Elizabeth never ceased to amaze and enliven. She awoke feelings he believed either long dead or never extant. _Why not love?_

_How could I have thought it anything but love, and not some vague inclination. I feel—_he could not find the correct word in his vocabulary—_incomplete without her_ was as near as he could come.

Darcy was a man in love but his thoughts could not stray far from the idea of the intimate acts he had engaged in with Elizabeth. How he hated not being able to recall anything beyond the moment she entered the library and one flash of an embrace. He knew he had been sorely tempted to kiss her. Had he?

He knew what his usual fantasies included. He had never been intimate with a woman before, but several had tried to seduce him; he found it entirely abhorrent. In as much as his dreams of Elizabeth always ended with carnal pleasure, they never began that way. He could never imagine Elizabeth behaving like a seductress—at least before marriage.

_Elizabeth walked into the library wearing only her night-clothes, her tempting hair loose and flowing around her shoulders. His fingers itched to hold her silky strands. She did not notice him and began to peruse the shelves, walking closer to the dimming firelight and candles near the mantelpiece. She wore decidedly fewer layers for night than daytime and he could see her legs through her dressing gown. Such tempting legs! Strong from her walking and dancing; he was certain her skin would be the softest thing he ever touched. Suddenly feeling parched, he took a large gulp of his brandy. When he set the glass down on the table, the thud alerted her to his presence._

_"__Oh!" she cried in alarm and then seemed to calm when she recognised him._

_"__Miss Bennet." He acknowledged her with a nod and shamelessly allowed his gaze to take in the whole length of her body. She blushed._

_"__Mr. Darcy," she whispered._

_"__Are you in need of diversion?" he asked, thinking he would love to divert her for the entire night._

_"__Yes," she said, sounding uncomfortable. Then her eyes took on the teasing glint he loved so much. "I would ask you to suggest a volume but I doubt you can offer any entertainment and certainly nothing I have not already experienced."_

_He smiled rakishly but her head was turned. "Is that a challenge, Miss Bennet?"_

_She returned her eyes to him and arched an eyebrow. "My father has given me free access to his library. I have read a great many things."_

_"__Hmm...the usual histories and poetry, I am sure." He intentionally baited her._

_She replied sharply, "Mr. Darcy, do you think we do not have booksellers here and never visit London? Or perhaps you mean to say I am too unintelligent to understand satire?"_

_He loved the shade of green her eyes took on when provoked and passionate; their fiery expression engrossed him. London society taught women to not express feelings, to feign disinterest in everything and appear to agree with everything a man of wealth said. Elizabeth's many pert opinions, given with a mixture of sharpness and sweetness, were intoxicating._

_"__Never, madam."_

_"__I confess I love a good novel. Unfortunately, there are several I would rather mock. If I were ever to write my own satire, I would place a gentleman in the role of the obedient Pamela, resisting her master's seduction. Men are not taught to resist those charms."_

_"__You think all men the same? We all succumb to lust or temptations of fortune?"_

_"__If you would resist the rank and fortune of titled ladies, are you in search of a Pamela?"_

_"__No. I do value virtue and modesty but I hope I do not need to be reformed by them. I do admire her for adhering to her values and keeping her self-respect, even when she loved the faulted hero. But I wish for more than that in a wife."_

_He stepped even closer to her and looked into her eyes. "I want a woman who can match me intellectually and will defend her opinions. I do not want timidity and I am sick of deference." He paused and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. "I find I admire impertinence and a lively mind very much these days."_

_Elizabeth gasped at the contact, but bravely spoke. "And would you be Pamela? You would refuse the trappings of wealth and security?"_

_He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "I would for a Lizzy."_

_He pulled back and was pleased to see Elizabeth's face flush, eyes looking a shade darker, and her breath rapid._

_She shook her head and pushed him away with hands against his chest. "No, you would be like Mr. Bountiful after all, and attempt a seduction! You must find it works on all the country maidens."_

_He fixed his eyes on her. "Elizabeth, I am no Mr. Bountiful. I would only offer myself to the one I intend to marry."_

_Her breath hitched and she seemed to search his soul for the truth. Then she took up his hand and gently kissed it. His heart pounded in his ears; he thought it would burst from his chest. "As would I."_

_He pulled her to him and she came willingly, remarkably pliant in his arms. He kissed her with deep, passionate kisses and ran his hands over her enticing body. After what was a curious mix of eternity and the flash of a second he tugged on her hand, pulling her towards the door._

_Breathlessly he said, "Come with me?"_

_"__Yes. Anywhere." He opened the door… _

It was then that the library door _did_ open and Elizabeth walked in, so very similar to his fantasy. But Darcy _knew_ whatever happened that evening could not have been like his fantasy. He could never be so eloquent. _And on such subjects! _Nor would he have offered Elizabeth marriage, however much he wished to. He was absolutely certain it did not proceed in that way. No, Elizabeth had been hesitant to accept his offer of marriage in the garden, instead of acting as though he had already made one.

Or had he? He could think of no other explanation for her succumbing to his seduction. And simply arguing that in his right mind he would never propose was insufficient. In his right mind he would never have stolen her virtue in the first place, and he had long since came to accept he had done so. He was most definitely _not_ in his sober and right mind at the time.

_It also means she did not accept me entirely out of obligation, then. Her refusal the next day must have been due to confusion, and as I did not dwell on affection and mentioned only duty. Her pride must have been hurt._

He smirked a little. Perhaps it _had_ been quite like his fantasy; he was able to talk to Elizabeth openly and had proved sufficiently charming. He puffed out his chest. He could do that, for her. _Just be amiable and...tolerant. _Yes, tolerating her family's behaviour was the best he could promise. _Although, thinking of her tempting lips proved distracting enough from the indecorum of the Bennets the other night. _

Once on the subject of Elizabeth's lips, his thoughts flowed in their usual stream until it was time to dress for dinner.

Note:

**_(From Wikipedia) Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded_** is an epistolary novel by Samuel Richardson, first published in 1740. It tells the story of a beautiful 15-year old maidservant named Pamela Andrews, whose country landowner master, Mr. B, makes unwanted advances towards her after the death of his mother, whose maid Pamela had been since age 12. Mr. B is infatuated with her, first by her looks and then her innocence and intelligence, but his high rank hinders him from proposing marriage. He abducts her, locks her up in one of his estates, and attempts to seduce and rape her. She rejects him continually, but starts to realise that she is falling in love with him. He intercepts her letters to her parents; reading them, he becomes even more enamored by her innocence, intelligence, and continuous escape attempts. Her virtue is eventually rewarded when he sincerely proposes an equitable marriage to her. In the novel's second part, Pamela attempts to build a successful relationship with him and to acclimatise to upper class society. The story, a best-seller of its time, was very widely read but criticised for its perceived licentiousness.

Richardson began writing this novel as a conduct book. Essentially, the woman is expected to be meek and virtuous despite the life men lead and by her stronger character she can alter the man's behaviour. Darcy disagrees with this philosophy and requests the men are treated the same way and suspects Elizabeth would agree.

Thanks for reading! Next post on Sunday!


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks again to everyone reading, favoriting, following and reviewing! I had some difficulties with the last post and I've got some time so I thought I'd post now in case I have to tinker with it again. Thanks always to my betas Linda B., Jim, Candice, Rosie J., and Peculiarlady. Any mistakes are my own and anything that sounds like JA is.

**_Note: I did attempt some research on standard ballroom dances but did not find much consensus. As it happens it works well for my story that reels are called for the supper set, although I suspect that might have been frowned on, and the lady announcing them knows this. I argue she can get away with it in Meryton even if she would not in London. Additionally, I did learn that _****_"_****_Jenny_****_'_****_s Market,_****_"_****_as seen in the 2009 production of _****_Emma,_****_ is entirely fictional and while the Viennese Waltz supposedly was not decent at all until it was accepted at Almacks in 1814, there are surviving paintings and caricatures of waltzes and waltz-like dances dated before 1811. I felt it better to use a fictional dance than the actual waltz to end the ball, and chose Jenny_****_'_****_s Market so you can get a bit of the imagery _****_…_****_and Darcy is allowed a little _****_'_****_contact_****_'_****_. Again, I am rather certain only the Boulanger was danced at the end of a ball, but I think this deviation is permissable in the atmosphere of this ball. If there was gossip afterwards, our characters are simply not around to worry over it._**

**Ch. 6**

Elizabeth dressed with more care than usual in preparation for Bingley's ball. She had not seen Darcy in four days and anticipated not only dancing and conversing with him, but facing the public acknowledgement of their engagement. She walked into Netherfield's drawing room, and after greeting her hosts and hostesses, her eyes were immediately drawn to Darcy, standing at the back of the room. _He is so handsome._

He was clearly watching the entrance. When he saw her, an expression of heartfelt delight came over him. It made her beam for sheer joy that she was able to bring him such happiness. Instantly, she perceived how he kept a good measure of himself hidden away. It would now and forever fall to her to tease him into better spirits.

Seeing him hold her gaze and approach, her heart began to pound.

"Miss Bennet."He bowed over her gloved hand.

"Mr. Darcy."She curtsied.

"I am pleased to see you and your family here this evening. You are all well?"

"Yes, I thank you. And you?"

He smiled a little and raised an eyebrow. "Very well. I had begun to think the sun would never shine in Hertfordshire again, but your brilliant smile is more than sufficient replacement."

She blushed deeply at the compliment. _Oh my. He is charming again. _Her brow furrowed.

Darcy was made curious by the change in her countenance. "May I ask what troubles you?"

She gave him a teasing smile. "I only wondered if you had been to the punch table already, sir. I have only seen you so amiable one other time..."

"Have I not the right to be amiable with such a beautiful partner, and on such a happy occasion as the night our betrothal is announced?"

He leaned closer to her ear and quietly added, "I hope you understand that I have never over-indulged in such a way before and vow never to again."

Elizabeth smiled at his words. _Perhaps the brandy had given him just enough courage to lose his reserve._

The musicians began to play the opening notes of the first set and Darcy spoke hastily. "I apologize for my distraction when I called at your house last. I believe I quite forgot to ask to reserve a set with you."

He looked anxious, although he could not really think Elizabeth's card was full already. The rain had kept all callers at home and he had been speaking with her since nearly the moment she arrived.

She sought to put his mind at ease. "Quite understandable, sir. I have reserved space for you on my card."

He smiled broadly. "And which one am I allowed the pleasure?"

Elizabeth answered eagerly, "Why, the first one of course."

"Shall we, then?"

He led her to the dance floor and they took their place in the line. She could not resist teasing him. "Will you not ask which else?"

He seemed startled at first, but then smiled again. "I am at your disposal for any set you wish, madam."

"Since you are proving so charming tonight, I must tell you I gave you the supper set as well, to ensure us some conversation."

He seemed rather pleased with the arrangement. They moved down the set in silence for a moment before Elizabeth pressed again, with a wicked gleam.

"And might you desire to know the third set you will have with me?"

For a moment he seemed quite vexed. No doubt she was pushing him too far, for a man who was not fond of dancing. But soon he smiled and responded with an air of mischievousness.

"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours."

He lingered over the word pleasure and although Elizabeth was uncertain why, she blushed, which appeared to give Darcy great satisfaction.

Upon recovering her breath, she replied with mock innocence, dropping her voice, "I gave you the last, William, as I can think of no better way to end the evening than with you."

His nostrils flared and his eyes grew dark. He glanced around the room and his eyes found the door to the balcony. Too soon the music signalled the final turn and the set was over. They held each other's eyes as he escorted her to her father.

_Was he contemplating luring me to the balcony already? _Elizabeth was musing as they strolled to her father. _Would I have gone?_

Upon reaching Mr. Bennet, Darcy bowed and offered to fetch some refreshment. She found it curious that by the time he returned she had nearly her entire card full, to the obvious entertainment of her father and adding to Darcy's frowning displeasure_._ For the intervening sets Darcy persistently stayed in her view.

On the occasions when she glanced at her father, there was invariably some young man in conference with him. Her betrothed looked excessively disgruntled but soon his aspect turned to something resembling amusement. The sudden observation of how much Darcy's manner in company resembled her father's shocked Elizabeth. She wondered why she had never marked it before. He was not uncivil or truly ungentlemanly, _most_ of the time, but not very fond of society. She also noticed Miss Bingley trying to edge nearer Darcy whenever she was unpartnered, and he steadfastly ignored her hints. As much as she disliked the lady, Elizabeth perceived she would have to remind Darcy of his duty to his hosts. _Our union will be to the advantage of both. My ease and liveliness will soften his mind and improve his manners while his judgment, information, and knowledge of the world will answer all my hopes for a husband of superior understanding._

Elizabeth's attention could not be held by any of her partners and it seemed they asked many odd, unconnected questions. Each of them praised the Hertfordshire countryside, and eyed her strangely as they opined they knew she loved the Longbourn area, and strongly hoped she would never leave it for long. Elizabeth was unsurprised by this obvious ignorance of her engagement, as only her family were informed due to the recent persistent rain. Nonetheless, she was astonished that those she had known her whole life thought her local attachment so strong and her so unadventurous. Nothing could be further from the truth. Elizabeth firmly believed a woman could be settled too near her family—hers in particular!—and she longed to travel and experience the beauties of the world, if fortune would allow.

At last came the supper set and, as Miss Bingley saw Darcy partner with Elizabeth, she called out The Town Square and Ship's Cook. Such lively reels left little opportunity to speak to one's partner but inspired much gaiety amongst the young people, Kitty and Lydia in particular. Elizabeth had seen them sampling the punch a bit heavily, especially given they had not eaten in many hours. She was mortified that their behaviour now bordered on drunkenness. Undoubtedly, Miss Bingley enjoyed showing Darcy the downfalls of Elizabeth's family. Surprisingly, their hostess missed her mark, for Darcy was all smiles during the dances and Elizabeth had never seen him so lively.

After the invigorating reels, Darcy escorted her to the supper room and set out to make up her plate. It was not too many minutes later when she discovered the most perverse and unwelcome news—she had somehow been seated near her mother! She trembled for what the interval might hold in store as Mrs. Bennet was already holding forth on the virtues of Jane soon being settled in this very house. Soon after Darcy was seated, Mr. Bingley stood to make an announcement.

"My good ladies and gentlemen! I welcome you to my home and with my deepest and warmest gratitude for your reception of me and my family and friends into your charming neighbourhood."He paused and nodded his head at Sir William Lucas, who stood. "Now, I understand there are some very important and happy announcements to be heard! Sir William, I welcome you to begin."

"Capital! Capital! It is with much happiness I announce the betrothal of my eldest daughter, Charlotte, to Mr. Samuel Long."A general cry of astonishment went up before breaking into applause. Elizabeth stole a look at her friend, who glowed with joy. Elizabeth could scarce believe her eyes or ears.

Well before she was recovered, the elder Mr Long was making an announcement of his own. "And I am to welcome Mr. John Lucas as nephew, as he has asked for my niece Susanna's hand!"Another cry of merriment went forward. What was the cause for all this? Had Cupid's arrows struck all of Hertfordshire so decidedly?

Colonel Forster stood next. "And I am pleased to announce the engagement of a first-rate gentleman, Captain Denny, to the charming and accomplished Miss Mary King."As Miss King stayed with a spinster aunt, it was understandable Colonel Forster made the announcement. The news was met with Lydia and Kitty's cries of disbelief and dismay at Mary King catching Denny. Elizabeth was astonished when her father quietly reprimanded them, but it seemed he did so only to make an announcement himself.

Mr. Bennet stood and declared, "As my own wife marked Mr. Bingley for one of our daughters before we had ever even met the gentleman, it should come as no surprise to hear that he has asked for my Jane's hand."

After the necessary shrieking from certain women of the room, most of them his own relations, the assembled party paused and looked at Mr. Bennet curiously when he continued to stand. With a slight tremor in his voice he next declared, "And I also announce the engagement of my little Lizzy to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Jane, Lizzy, I wish you very happy, my dears."

The room collectively stared, coloured and doubted, but soon saw the truth when Mr. Darcy took Elizabeth's hand and kissed it, while looking her intently with an expression of sincere and devoted admiration. It was Elizabeth's turn to blush brightly. She heard an audible gasp and sigh from nearly every lady in the room before cheers and congratulations broke out, followed by mortifyingly loud comments by a familiar and familial voice on his ten thousand a year, how _everyone_ knew he could not be so disagreeable, how he had been instantly smitten with "our Lizzy", and that he had been observed looking at her particularly these many weeks. Unsurprisingly, her mother was profuse in praise of her new favourite.

Darcy managed to sit with an air of assumed tranquillity during the whole of it, and Elizabeth could not account for him in the slightest. "Mr. Darcy, you seem rather amused by these proceedings. Do you care to explain yourself?"He turned to Elizabeth and she was diverted to see he wore a half-smile.

"Certainly, Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Black gave a very rousing sermon the other Sunday on, among other subjects, the benefits of marriage, and it seems the attendees of the Meryton Church took his words quite to heart."

He seemed to be holding back a larger smile and Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "And this diverts you?"

"You may have noticed many men were in conference with your father this evening."

"Yes."

"It seems I was very fortunate to seek your hand when I did or else any one of six potential suitors might have beaten me to it. I daresay I have won the brightest jewel in the county!"

Elizabeth's vanity could not credit the fact that six men sought her hand, but chose to tease Darcy in return. Fixing an arch look upon him, she coyly replied, "Only in the county? And to think that with six other offers, I might have taken my pick, Mr Darcy!"

Before Darcy could express himself as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do, their tête-à-tête was interrupted by Lydia dashing through the supper room with an officer's sword above her head, shrieking with laughter and shamelessly flirting. Kitty followed hard on her heels, taunting another officer by refusing to return his gloves.

Ignoring this, Mrs. Bennet's remarks of delight at the matches of her eldest daughters was growing more clamourous by the minute. Elizabeth knew her mother's pride was affronted to have shared the news of their engagements with so many other announcements. Mrs. Bennet sought to remind everyone of the superiority in wealth and circumstance of the men _her_ daughters had captured. She detailed at length how Elizabeth was remarkably _clever_ in ensnaring Mr Darcy, as her beauty was nothing to Jane's, and Mrs. Bennet had frequently worried such a wayward girl would never catch the eye of any man.

Elizabeth could not quite guess at her mother's meaning, except that perhaps Mrs. Bennet believed Darcy was attracted to her second eldest because of her wit and lively mind, but Darcy listened with an air of increased gravity tending towards indignation. Elizabeth attempted to shush her mother, but to no avail. Mr. Bennet sat silent, staring, and unseeing at yet another glass of wine. Elizabeth blushed again and again in shame and mortification. Her only consolation was that Bingley and Jane were seated far away and seemed not to notice the behaviour of the Bennets.

Soon the instrument was opened and Mr. Bingley begged for some performance. Mary approached with alacrity, even before allowing Miss Bingley to arise from her chair. Mary's manner was affected and her voice weak; after completing one piece, which offered little reward for the effort of hearing it, she immediately began another song. Elizabeth was in agony and Darcy seemed even more fixed in his solemn silence. At last Elizabeth's pleading looks roused the interest of her father who approached Mary mid-song and spoke too loudly.

"That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit." Mary was barely left the pianoforte before tears sprang to her eyes.

Elizabeth was chagrined. It seemed her whole family was suddenly intent on exposing themselves to all possible public ridicule. At least Mr. Collins was sick at Longbourn with a cold. As the gravity of this humiliation sank in—on the very evening announcing Elizabeth's betrothal—which should have been a memory of great delight, she felt a crushing sensation in her heart. Nearly leaping from her chair, she mumbled an excuse and sped towards the balcony.

Darcy saw Elizabeth dash towards the door. He glared at Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. Their inaction and folly were causing his Elizabeth pain, and the master of Pemberley was not pleased. _So much for tolerance._

The evening had started so well. He was in high spirits, buoyed by his belief that all Elizabeth needed to fall in love with him was for him to be open instead of reserved, and tolerant of her family. He began well enough. She seemed charmed by his behaviour, and he managed to find amusement in the idea of so many of the area's gentlemen having _desired_ her that they were sufficiently motivated by guilt from Mr. Black's sermon to offer for her. He was glad she would soon be away from so many admirers, even if it was likely to happen everywhere she went.

He enjoyed her teasing wit during their first dance and he exacted his revenge, unknown to her, when he reminded himself of her speaking the word _pleasure._ It was a little ridiculous how that one word from her perfect mouth could lift his spirits to such a degree, but if three dances was the price to pay for it, she was worth that and more.

Not that he would ever regret dancing with Elizabeth. He was not given to levity and while he excelled at dancing—the product of having the best masters—it was difficult for him to be lively or to find any pleasure in most of his partners. But Elizabeth was life personified. How could he not enjoy himself when Elizabeth was his partner? Her beautiful smile and sparkling eyes, meeting his as they hopped and skipped around the dance floor, could lift the foulest of moods. He tried not to think about the memories he would later indulge in, of Elizabeth's pleasing bosom as she jumped and turned in time to the music, about how much he enjoyed seeing her face flush from the exercise and hearing her gasp to catch her breath. How he imagined the delights of other activities causing similar reactions in the future. Now was certainly not the time for such thoughts.

He disliked Mrs. Bennet's innuendo, that Elizabeth had ensnared him using some kind of design or trickery, and was angered that Mr. Bennet did nothing to still his wife's tongue. It would not do for gossip to emerge that Elizabeth had drawn him in with her arts and allurements. He was pleased to hear, instead, that most sensible people had seen how he often stared at her and, now at least, interpreted his gaze as admiration.

The balcony was dark, with fewer lanterns than the front of the house, and it was a moonless night due to the clouds. He called out, "Elizabeth?"

Silence greeted him. He tried again, a note of panic edging into his voice. It was quite cold and the air was still moist from the recent rain. Elizabeth wore only her thin ball gown and he feared she would be chilled quickly. He attempted to scan the garden below but could make nothing out. He pressed forward anyway; she might be walking to relieve her tension. He found her not far from the house, on the very bench where he first proposed to her. _Or was it the second proposal?_

"Elizabeth, darling. You will grow chilled. Your mother will be beside herself with worry over an ill bride."

She met his eyes and he saw she had been crying. His heart ached to see such a sad expression on her beautiful face.

"Yes, let us return, then. It would not do for you to jilt me because I am unwell."

She attempted to rise but he stayed her by squeezing her shoulder. "Jilt you? Elizabeth what can you mean?"

She could not suppress a rueful laugh. "Mamma is beside herself with worry these last few days, that if we do not marry on Thursday you will not have me at all."

Darcy scowled. "And is that your fear as well?"His voice had a hard edge.

She turned her eyes back to him and answered with obvious sincerity. "No, I would never doubt your honour."

Releasing his breath, Darcy sat on the bench next to her. He was more attuned now to how large he was compared to her. His broad shoulders grazed hers and their thighs nearly touched. She shivered and he shrugged off his jacket to offer her the warmth. He was struck with how small she was and how much he desired to protect her. As much as it would soon be his duty to do so, it would be a profound honour as well.

She spoke softly. "You know that is what Mr. Wickham was attempting to say in the drawing room the other day—that you dishonoured your father's will—but I could not believe him."

He squeezed her hands where they were clasped together on her lap. "Thank you, Elizabeth. Few see Wickham for the scoundrel he is, though I am not surprised that you did, given your intelligence. I will tell you of my history with him someday. For now you need only know that he will not trouble us again. You do me credit by believing in my honour so implicitly."

"You should not attempt to flatter me, sir. We know I have been mistaken in my first impressions before."

Her statement confused him, but he remained silent.

"His other declaration was that you are engaged to your cousin Anne."His face darkened but she stared at their hands and would not look at him. "I...I did not believe him on that either, or Mr. Collins when he said the same. But I am reminded of the words you spoke here, how you felt it your duty to offer me marriage due to our...indiscretion. That it was demanded of your honour. Miss de Bourgh sounds your equal in circumstance and wealth. Your families must have long cherished the hope of your union. And whom will you bring them instead? A country gentleman's daughter with connections in trade? Vulgar relations? Tonight we have seen just how ridiculously vulgar they are. I know you would not break your promise if it was bound elsewhere, but be truthful. You did not wish for this marriage."

She sounded so bitter, so sad, so hopeless. Darcy was at a loss how to reassure her. He sensed there was so much else she worried about beyond the complaints she admitted.

He lifted her face to look at him. "My supposed engagement to Anne is nothing but the fanciful wish of her mother; it was never mine or Anne's. I am ashamed to learn it is being so openly circulated and you had the misfortune to hear it. Do you not recall that I declared here on this very spot that I do not wish for a marriage based only on rank and wealth? Did I not tell you how you captivate me? Almost since the first moment of our acquaintance."

Her tears came anew and he knew not what to do besides offer his handkerchief. She cried silently for a few minutes and then seemed to have reached some kind of decision. She dried her eyes and stood.

"Come, sir. My partner will be looking for me and we must have you dance as well."

"Elizabeth, no. There is not another woman in the room…"

"Whom it would not be a punishment to stand up with?"

Darcy furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "How did you know I intended to speak those words?"

Elizabeth answered with a sly smile and tugged on his hand. "Come, William. I am certain we can find at least one other lady handsome enough to tempt you. Several of them are now engaged, as are you, and can have no designs upon you. Surely they must prove tolerable and certainly are not slighted by other men."

She attempted to pull him along but he resisted.

"Elizabeth?"

She turned and looked at him but said nothing.

"Elizabeth, did you...that is…"His throat squeezed tight. She had heard him, every word, at the first assembly and clearly took it quite to heart. He directed her back to the bench and she was surprisingly compliant.

He cleared his throat. There was only one thing to do. "May I ascertain from your words that you heard me speaking to Bingley at the Meryton assembly?"

Elizabeth merely nodded.

"And I take it by your manner that you have convinced yourself I found you wanting?"

A flash of anger crossed her face. "How could I be mistaken, sir? You slighted the whole room, and me in particular."She sat down, clearly angry.

He started to pace, tugged on his cravat, and muttered, "Devil take it!"

Willing himself to be calm, he looked at her as he leant against a tree. "Bingley wanted me to dance, and I knew I ought to, but I simply did not wish it. I was...badly out of spirits for reasons I _will_ tell you someday soon, and I believed I could act as I chose in a room where I was unknown, had no acquaintances, and was superior in standing. I did not expect reproach. I _do _find it hard to make new acquaintances; it is a _punishment_ for me to talk with them. I cannot catch their tone of conversation and when I do speak I cannot appear interested in their concerns. I cannot make my face appear open and genial, so to dance with a stranger is a particular ordeal."

She looked at him in disbelief.

"Elizabeth, how many times did you notice me near you and listening to your conversations?"

"Very often."

"And did I seem pleased?"

She laughed. "You rarely seem pleased by anything."

"This is what I mean! Nearly everything you say delights me. Everything you _do_ delights me."He pushed off the tree and approached her, kneeling before the bench. "Your every look delights me."

She blushed and tried to demure but he would not have it. "I am sorry, Elizabeth. I did not think how others might feel due to my actions. I am uncomfortable in company and I _do _know it gives offence, but I manage to smooth my way later, most of the time, should I wish it. But I never considered how my actions and my words would affect _you_. I only intended to persuade Bingley to leave me alone. It was horribly selfish. Please, forgive me."

"William, there is no need to forgive you. You are entitled to your opinions."

He immediately stood and pulled her up with him.

"Exasperating woman! Did I wound your vanity so thoroughly that you will have me tell you again and again how I find you the most handsome woman of my acquaintance? That since the first moment I truly looked at you I found you very pretty? Must I tell you each time we met my attraction and regard deepened? And that it has been driving me to distraction to not do this all evening?"

With his last words he engulfed her in his arms and kissed her, most passionately. He kissed her again and again until he elicited the most addictive moans from her. He kissed her until she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. The kiss went on as her fingers, ungloved from dinner, raked through his hair, sending sparks of fire through his body, finally causing him to groan.

He came to his senses just as he realised he was lifting her off the ground and attempting to carry her, slipping one hand under her firm bottom with every intention of pushing her against a tree for support and allowing his other hand to caress her breast. He certainly did not mean to take it so far, but Elizabeth was everything passionate and responsive.

Breaking the kiss, he allowed their breathing to settle and the heat to subside in their bodies. Elizabeth blinked, seemingly puzzled as to how they moved from near the bench to the trees before realisation struck. She began to adjust her clothing and pat her hair.

"You are so beautiful you leave me breathless, darling. You must believe me this time."He grinned and she smiled in return.

Their breathing finally calmed and they walked towards the house. "William, there was one lady at the assembly you did not slight. You said Jane was the only handsome girl in the room."

"It was easier for me to acknowledge her. I could see Bingley instantly besotted and knew he would never push for me to dance with her; I have learned it prudent to pay attention to Bingley's partners. More than once has one family issued wild speculation on a match with him because of a mere dance, often they are the worst kind of fortune hunters. So I acknowledged she was handsome because she was the only lady I _had _studied."

"You do not mean to say…"

"No, Elizabeth, I do not mean to imply your sister is mercenary."

"Hmmm."

"Will you not ask me what you truly wish to know?"

Elizabeth looked up at him, surprised by the mirth in his eyes. "Oh, you think you know?"

"Of course, I am soon to be your husband. You have confessed to being recalcitrant and headstrong. How could I hope to have an obedient wife if I do not first tell you everything you wish to hear?"

Elizabeth laughed heartily at such an image of herself. "Very well, sir. Pray, tell me what it is I wish to ask."

"When did I first truly look at you and find you pretty?"Her gaze softened, and Darcy was certain he surmised correctly.

She waited.

"I have already told you I attend particularly to Bingley's partners. You danced the sixth with him and were spirited and lively. I could see he found you agreeable and I acknowledged that I was wrong in my earlier cold pronouncement, when I had not really studied you; you were more than tolerable; you were quite pretty. Then at the Lucases', when Sir William would have us dance, I found myself rather put out when you would not, despite only a moment before being upset by the course of the evening. I have always disliked dancing and had just declared so to Sir William. I was surprised by my inclinations; I thought nothing of it to confess to Miss Bingley that I was meditating on the very great pleasure which your fine eyes and pretty face bestowed, as you quite brought me out of my ill-humour."

Elizabeth gasped. "After I refused you?"

"Yes."

"And this is why Miss Bingley dislikes me?" Elizabeth chuckled. They stood outside the doors to the ballroom, the music already playing and she could see her partner scanning for her. She handed his topcoat back to him.

Darcy hesitated when she went forward. Did the whole county dislike him due to his conduct that one night?

"Come along, Evelina. I am certain you can now behave better in a ballroom."

She gave him an arch look and he burst into laughter. How wonderful to know that his fantasy Elizabeth was so close to the authentic object. She would find a way to cast him as the heroine, and how perfectly fitting that he should be the one who committed a ballroom blunder.

He could not tell if the looks he got when entering the room were from the surprise of hearing him laugh, or from the fact they did not conceal they had been outside together. But he did take her words to heart. Darcy sought dances with her sisters Jane and Mary, and Charlotte Lucas as well as Mrs. Hurst and, finally, Miss Bingley.

At first Miss Bingley seemed to desire to pass the dance in silence, which suited Darcy perfectly. At long last, she spoke with extreme bitterness.

"I suppose you simply could not help yourself. Men! You are all the same, even you, with all your talk of duty and honour. You will disgrace Pemberley by _stooping_ to _that_. Are you senseless of the _degradation_?"

"That is enough, madam!"

"You will regret your choice. You will regret being ruled by a moment of infatuation when she cannot make a proper mistress of your home and disgraces your family name. She has not the…"

"Are you to give me another list of attributes you presume I desire in a wife and that you think you meet?"

"Well, I am…"

"The daughter of a tradesman."

Caroline turned red in anger and began to refute him but paled upon observing his severe mien. They went down the remainder of the dance in silence and, just after parting, he overheard her asking her sister the whereabouts of their brother.

"Something about not being able to speak about books in a ballroom. Mrs. Bennet allowed Charles to escort Jane to the library, but I have not seen them in quite some time,"said Mrs. Hurst.

"How like him! To leave me here with the duties of hostess by myself! Louisa, I have a severe headache. I leave you to announce the final set while I attempt to refresh myself before I must farewell our guests."

Darcy walked towards Mr. Bennet to collect Elizabeth. He was surprised to hear Mrs. Hurst call out "Jenny's Market"instead of the more common Boulanger for the last dance. At first he believed she thought the dance more refined than the Boulanger, but she gave him a sly nod and a wink. It seemed Mrs. Hurst was giving him an early wedding present!

Leading Elizabeth to the floor, his heart pounded. It was impossible for him to go through the steps and grasp her waist without recalling the feel of her in his arms from their garden interlude. And he thanked the Lord he at last had some memories of touching Elizabeth. She appeared no less affected. Her smile was genuine and her eyes a mixture of brightness from her joy and softness with affection.

As they continued to dance, and he manfully tried to not pull her in closer and closer, she met his eye with a spark that could only be increasing desire. The dance's pace was sedate compared to the lively dances earlier in the evening, but they ended in a breathless state. Darcy had never believed the distance between a Tuesday and a Thursday could be longer than in this week, when Elizabeth would become his wife.

Note: Elizabeth references **_Evelina_**_ or the History of a Young Lady's Entrance into the World_ which was written by Fanny Burney and first published in 1778. JA confesses to being influenced by Burney and it is likely any well-read individual of the era would know of it. Evelina was raised in the country and on a journey to London unknowingly committed quite the error when she declined to dance with a partner who irritated her and then immediately accepted another gentleman for the same set. While Elizabeth is not entirely excusing Darcy's behaviour she does recognize that he did not intend to offend the whole Assembly with his demeanour or words and he refused to dance with anyone but what civility demanded, which in Evelina's case would have been the correct protocol when refusing a partner.

I encourage everyone to either watch the 2009 miniseries of Emma (episode 3) to see the dances or to look up the titles and see the videos. I wasn't sure if I could link them on here. Or if you're having trouble but are curious, feel free to PM me and I will send you the links.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks again for all the reviews, reads, follows and favorites. We survived the ball and are only two days away from the wedding. What could go wrong? Thanks to Rosie J., Jim, Linda B., Peculiarlady and Candice for all their help, any mistakes you find are my own. Anything that sounds like JA is.

**Ch. 7**

Despite the late hour of the ball the previous night, Elizabeth awoke early. The events of the past fortnight had tried her equanimity and she desperately needed exercise. She would never dare acknowledge to another living soul that she was anxious. She found herself in a remarkable position akin to her mother's fits and tempers, leaving her feeling quite fluttery inside. Elizabeth had to own that at times she suffered sensations of what could only be called panic. She would not succumb to the spate of nervousness barely concealed, and instead chose a restorative walk. She simply must regain control of her good sense lest she make herself ill. Already her anxiousness had delayed her courses.

In addition to recent events, this day would be her last in Hertfordshire, and she did not wish to waste a moment of it abed. She longed to farewell the countryside she knew so well. It had been her haven and refuge. She loved Jane, but Elizabeth believed not even her dearest sister could calm her the way the well-loved paths did.

_What are the grounds like at Pemberley? I have heard from Miss Bingley about the magnificence of the house and library, but I do not even know if William enjoys the outdoors. What if he wishes to spend all our time in Town?_

Her worries threatened to fill her with dread. She had never dreamt when she accepted Darcy's proposals that she would marry him in less than a fortnight! She expected a proper engagement period and, even when the date was first proposed, she could not have known there would be four days of rain to suspend their further acquaintance.

The notion compelled Elizabeth to run, to sprint. She had always hoped to have a loving marriage of equal minds, yet a moment's whim had irrevocably bound her forever to a man she barely knew. She felt like a frightened deer, pushing herself by instinct alone. Her reason left her as her senses told her to climb the highest hill, and she did. She reached the crest utterly out of breath and forced her mind to empty. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on breathing in and breathing out.

She relaxed and stilled as a gentle breeze played with her bonnet ribbons, bringing with it the faint comforting scent of woodland and smoke. The chirping of the birds as they caught their morning meal placed a cheery tune in her mind. This perfect meditation did more good against the pounding in her head and nervous flutters of her heart than any of Mr. Jones's powders ever could.

She blinked her eyes open just long enough to check the grass before sitting. Her good sense demanded she evaluate matters rationally before convincing herself she was doomed to a life of misery on the eve of her wedding.

An undeniable fact was her obligation. She had allowed Darcy liberties and enjoyed his attentions at Netherfield. Propriety was rather strict in its expectations of a lady's behaviour. When asked, she consented to his proposal. She pledged herself to him. The betrothal was announced, settlement papers signed, and the licence purchased. Breaking the engagement was impossible; she would never hurt her family in such a way. She _would_ marry Fitzwilliam Darcy on the morrow.

_Tomorrow_. Perhaps _that_ was the source of her unease. She had expected more time to know him better, to learn his likes and dislikes, but perhaps it all meant nothing. Last night she learnt that six young men had intended to ask for her hand, all due to a sermon intended to browbeat them into the idea of marriage. She had perceived no special regard from any of them in all the years she had known them, and if there _had_ been regard, what kept them from displaying it openly? None of the men were known for reserve. During each man's dance with her, they had painted the same picture of her, which did not portray her character in the slightest. They were mistaken in her character; to them she was only what they wished to see.

Not many weeks ago, she had mocked Charlotte's opinion that happiness in marriage was a matter of chance. Elizabeth insisted that Jane and Bingley could not know each other well enough to sufficiently declare their regard; their evenings together could only allow them to know which card game they preferred and which dishes were their favourites, but not enough to reveal depth of character.

_What do I know of the man I will marry?_ She attempted to catalogue her dealings with him. Although he had seemed to enjoy loo the first night at Netherfield, the table did not reappear for the remainder of the week because, according to Miss Bingley, Darcy did not wish it. He sang and danced well, and was fond of reading and disagreements.

_Now, be fair, Lizzy! _She pushed herself to examine him fairly, not only the things she noticed that supported her first impression of him as haughty. He certainly enjoyed any library, was intelligent and well-informed. He expressed himself eloquently, if he so desired. He debated fairly, listened to her views and did not demean her opinions. He valued constancy and thoroughness before making a decision.

Though not perfect, he admitted to believing in addressing his failures. He had humbled himself repeatedly when asking for her hand and in every meeting since, especially last night whilst apologising for slighting her at the assembly.

Additionally, she overheard the servants at Netherfield call him the best landlord and master. Mr. Bingley's valet attested to observing Darcy for years now and even the local maid spoke of seeing his kindness and generosity. Elizabeth had also witnessed his devoted communication with his sister when she stayed at Netherfield.

In light of his explanation of his difficulty making new acquaintances, Elizabeth was forced to concede the only disagreeable thing she knew of him was his acknowledged implacable resentment, but she presumed that was not hastily formed. She might not know his preferences about nearly anything, but she knew Darcy was a good and just man, and would be reasonable during their disagreements.

Surely, if he preferred to sit in his library in Town and read all day, she could find some kind of compromise that would allow her to ramble, properly escorted, in a nearby park. He could be charming and light-hearted, and he took the time to listen to her concerns. She was finally calmed and remembered all the logical reasons she had accepted his proposal.

More than all of this, he seemed to have affectionate and passionate feelings for her and would wish to make her happy. Suddenly, Elizabeth's memory was assaulted with the memory of his scent from his coat and then the sensation of being in Darcy's strong arms, of feeling the heat of his body, the warmth of his breath as he spoke gently and fervently to her. She recalled hearing the pounding of his heart matching time with her own, his scent overwhelming her, and his curly hair between her fingers. She perfectly remembered the look of absolute sincerity in his eyes as he declared she was the handsomest woman of his acquaintance. Finally, she allowed herself the pleasure of reliving his kisses and the intoxicating taste of his lips on hers. She remembered what happened next, the feel of him invading her mouth and his hands when they...

She collapsed backwards, nearly undone by the memory of Darcy's ardour the night before. She willed her body to better regulation. Lying in her state of bliss, she was alerted to the presence of another when she heard a horse neigh. Before she could fully regain her senses, she felt herself being lifted by strong arms and enveloped in a familiar scent. Upon realizing she was being carried to the horse she shrieked, trying to flee even as the arms tightened around her.

%%%%%

Darcy awoke early, a well-satisfied man, or as satisfied as he could be with his beloved miles away instead of in his bed. _Last night._

If Darcy found pleasure in Elizabeth's eyes, he reached Heaven itself when she was in his arms and passionately returning his kisses. He had held her so tight and she had pressed herself so close that he could feel her every curve. Her body fit against his perfectly. When his tongue met hers, velvety and soft, she moaned. All conscious reason left him with that sound, and his body acted on instinct alone. She positively clung to him, driving the most pleasing parts of her body forcefully against his. Her fingers in his hair were his undoing. One hand had come so close to caressing her breast and his other hand cradled her bottom, so very near to her core.

Darcy's eyes closed in remembrance; his body nearly trembled as it relived the immense satisfaction he felt at being able to gain such an ardent response. He shook his head. _I must not be alone with her again before the wedding_.

He desired her, loved her, and was betrothed to her. Many other couples did much more, but he also respected her. There would have been no excuse for taking her again, let alone outdoors in the cold and on the night of a ball. It was natural to have these urges, but he _would_ master them for one more day.

He doubted he would have such a problem when he called at Longbourn. Last night the impropriety of the Bennets was enough to break through his lustful distraction and today he was to meet Elizabeth's relations from London, Mrs. Bennet's brother and his family. Darcy had small hope of finding them pleasing company. He found he cared little for his own discomfort, but to cause Elizabeth such mortification last night was inexcusable.

At the moment he needed exercise before his visit. Darcy called for his valet and sent a servant to alert the stables. Arriving at the stable, he saw Bingley ready to mount his horse, clearly ready for travelling.

"Bingley, what is this?"

Bingley would not meet his friend's eyes. "Oh, Darcy. I left a note for you with the footman. I must go to Town on urgent business today."

"But what is it? Can I be of service?"

He shook his head and studiously adjusted the saddle and his horse's bit. Darcy believed his friend was attempting to conceal something, but such arts were beyond what he expected of Charles Bingley.

At last Bingley glanced at Darcy. "Yes, actually."

"You need only ask, my friend."

"I need a recommendation to the Archbishop."

"A special licence? I am sure Mrs. Bennet would like that very much, but you can refuse her."

Bingley muttered something under his breath.

"What did you say?"

Bingley closed his eyes, as though pained, and then opened them and Darcy could see the real distress there. "Darcy, I…"He gulped and tried again. "It is necessary."

Darcy started. "Necessary? Bingley! You mean…"

Bingley nodded his head. "Last night…"

"You were missing from the ballroom for some time."

"Yes, Jane and I were speaking of books, but I said I could not speak of books in a ballroom. So I requested to show her the library and Mrs. Bennet allowed it. What did you think of the punch?"

Darcy gave Bingley an incredulous look. "You ask me about the _punch?_"

"I believe Jane and I had too much. I...I remembered why you needed to marry so quickly. I know you regret the actions but you cannot regret that you will marry Miss Elizabeth more quickly and avoid all of Mrs. Bennet's exclamations. The four days of rain when I could not see Jane was torture.

"I thought kissing Jane would be enough for me. I believed when we did not soon return Mrs. Bennet would come for us, we would be found kissing and I could demand an earlier wedding date. We were there for quite some time and very..._very_ agreeably engaged, but no one interrupted us. The punch went to our heads. Jane showed me every encouragement, it was so refreshing."

Bingley hung his head low. "I have greatly wronged her."

For some minutes Darcy knew not what to say. "Bingley, when did you think to direct Miss Bennet to the library?"

"Hours before the ball."

He looked at his friend sharply. "You were not under the influence of the punch then."

"No."

"But you believed you should act similarly to me? I told you my shame and guilt, you knew it all. And you thought it was wise to emulate me?"

"I only thought…"

"You _thought?_ Who did you think of Bingley? Yourself! Did you consider how Miss Bennet would feel having her mother find her in the arms of her betrothed? And you know Mrs. Bennet would gossip about it! She already gossips about Elizabeth. Or what if someone else happened upon you? Did you consider how Jane would feel being the subject of hearsay and rumours—and everyone watching to see if she fell with child? Did you consider a child?"

Darcy was enraged; the feelings of self-reproach he had managed to suppress the last several days re-emerged in full force and were turned on his friend. He did not shout, it would not do for the stable hands to hear their conversation, but there could be no doubt of the anger he felt.

"And what do you do next? Run to Town and hide for days without even seeing to her well-being? Without apologising or assuring her of your regard and steadfastness? She is likely full of self-reproach and regret. Will you even be back before my wedding? Jane will be distraught at your absence, which will also upset Elizabeth. Your impulsiveness is really too much at times."

Bingley had turned pale as his friend began berating him but seemed nearly roused to anger as time went on.

"Darcy! I ought to have judged better than to attempt such a scene, especially as I know you were drunk when it happened. But going to Town to settle things as quickly as possible is exactly what you did and in your perfectly right mind. And how do you know Jane and I did not speak about this? I did not pass out in a drunken stupor only to awaken alone with the evidence of my sins, and leave it to my friend to explain my absence. You may treat Elizabeth that way, but I _love _Jane and would not abandon her to such misery. We are betrothed, at least; what did you say or offer to Elizabeth before you stole her virtue? You cannot even remember! You go too far!"

Darcy stumbled backwards as though punched. _Is there no end to my selfishness?_ He had not spared a thought last week for the pain and confusion Elizabeth might feel by his unexplained absence. He had inconsiderately thought only of his duty and obligation to arrange everything as quickly as possible. And he had bowed under his guilt; he could not face Elizabeth, and instead left like a coward. He did not realise then that he loved her, but it did not excuse ignoring her feelings upon discovering his absence, or how he had arranged everything to his choosing.

After a lengthy silence, in which Bingley looked quite uncomfortable and Darcy looked thoroughly ashamed, Darcy spoke. "You are perfectly correct, Bingley. Forgive me for my unjust accusations. But pray, stay until Thursday. Elizabeth and I leave for Town after the wedding breakfast and I can much easier help you while there. Also, I have no wish for another to stand up with me."

"Of course I forgive you. What of your cousin the Colonel?"

"I did not inform any of my family of my upcoming nuptials. To tell one would be to tell them all and I would rather present the marriage as a _fait accompli _to the Earl...and Lady Catherine."

"So none of your relatives will be coming?"

"Not a one. Not even Georgiana."

Bingley shook his head. "Darcy, it will look as though you are ashamed of the connection."

Darcy exhaled. What a mess he had made; he never considered people might think that. "I will send an express to Matlock House immediately. I doubt Richard can take leave so quickly and the earl and countess will not be pleased, but hopefully they can send the viscount at least."

Darcy started to walk back towards the house, but Bingley stayed him. "Darcy, why not enjoy your ride? You can send the express when you return. It is still very early, hours before most of Town wakes. Enjoy your ride, refresh yourself, and we will call at Longbourn."

Darcy readily agreed and the friends parted. He rode hard, relishing the freedom as the wind blew past his face and tugged on his coat. He knew he ought to spend the time reflecting on his character and all the mistakes he had made, but he simply needed to act and silence the harping recriminations.

After nearly half an hour, he slowed his animal and followed a wooded path. Suddenly a figure emerged from the woods from a less-worn path and dashed up the hill ahead of him. With a start he realized it was Elizabeth and she ran as though fleeing from something chasing her. He looked again to the woods and paused to listen, but there was no evidence of a large animal. He had lost sight of Elizabeth but continued up the path in the direction of the hill.

"Miss Bennet!" he called out, but she did not reply

"Elizabeth!"_This is altogether too similar to last night. She runs in times of turmoil._

Darcy crested the hill and saw her standing still with her back to him. He dismounted and tied his horse, then walked to stand in front of Elizabeth to speak to her. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were squeezed shut. Her face was marked with lines of confusion, but gradually it eased and her breathing evened.

Darcy had no earthly idea what to do. She opened her eyes for a brief moment but did not seem to see him and daintily sat on the grass in silence for several minutes. Then, as suddenly as she calmed she grew agitated again. Her face flushed, then she swooned.

Attempting to quell his panic, Darcy swept up his beloved and began walking to his horse. He could see she was still breathing. She came to with a start and began shrieking and trying to jump down from his arms. Darcy had to stifle a groan as her _squirming _was having a pronounced effect on him, although done in distress.

"Elizabeth, calm yourself,"he said as he stood her on her feet.

"Beast!"She ran several paces away.

Darcy stared after her. _She fears me? She believes I am a beast. Did she think I was going to force myself on her while she was unaware?_

He attempted to mask the deep pain he felt. He needed to be sure she was well. Without approaching any closer he gently called to her.

"Elizabeth, are you well? You swooned and frightened me. It is still just dawn and you cannot have had much rest to be about so early. Please, allow me to see you home."

She looked at him and, even at the relative distance, he could see the wild fear in her eyes.

"No, I am well. I can return home on my own."

Darcy stood still for a moment, fighting his dejection, wanting to be considerate of her feelings and still assure her safety.

"Might I follow you at a distance to be certain you arrive?"

The fear in her eyes eased and she looked at him appraisingly. "Sir, I know these paths well and…"her voice trailed off and she looked away. When she met his eyes again, she was crying.

_Blast it all!_ He took a tentative step closer.

"This is my last day here for quite some time, I suppose, and being out of doors does me good."

Darcy understood; she was saying goodbye to her home. Not just the building and the people but the thousand little overlooked things, each of which constituted her sanctuary and brought comfort.

"Can you tell me what frightened you? What caused you to run and exert yourself so much you fainted?"

She blushed a deep red and shook her head.

"Were you…"He exhaled, utterly defeated. "I hope you can trust me, confide in me. I hope you do not fear me. I would never harm you."

Elizabeth looked at him sharply. "I would never fear you; now _he _terrifies me."Darcy saw she was looking over his shoulder at his horse.

"Oh! Socrates scares you?"His lips turned up in amusement.

"Mr Darcy, it is not polite to laugh at a lady and you do not want to provoke me to retaliate. I walked to Netherfield for a reason. I am terrified of horses and prefer either my own good feet or to be in an enclosed carriage, far away from them."

He laughed outright, and was not sure if it was more from relief or that she had such an unreasonable fear. Walking back to the horse he released him and told him, "Home."

Turning back to Elizabeth he said, "Socrates will go back to Netherfield on his own, quite happily, I should say."

Darcy offered her his arm and they began to walk down the hill. "How are you truly, Elizabeth? I called after you several times and watched you. You were utterly senseless of my presence. I saw you running in the woods earlier."

"I sometimes need exertion. You see you will have a most wild and unruly wife."She laughed but he knew her merriness was feigned.

Darcy ceased walking and looked down at Elizabeth seriously. "Will you not tell me what troubles you?"

She was silent for a long moment. "I fear for our mutual happiness, that we were brought together because of our passions rather than our virtues."

"Do you still think I proposed only out of obligation?"

She chuckled a little. "Oh, no, William. You have made it abundantly clear you desire me as much as a man ought to desire his spouse, possibly much more than is reasonable, given the only thing you gain is me."

"You are more than enough."

"Am I? Will I be enough when we are not accepted in your circle due to my want of connections and lack of accomplishments? Will it be enough when we are alone on a winter's night? Or when you tire of my teasing? Will it be enough when bearing children and the passage of time makes me lose my youth and beauty? Or will you hide in your study and at your club? Will you lose all respect for me and my concerns and opinions? We argue more often than not, and during our two-week betrothal have only been in company twice, which seems to not concern you at all!"

She pulled her hand from his arm and buried her face in her handkerchief. She loathed that she was so emotional, and had exposed her innermost concerns so continually.

Her cries lessening, she summarised it simply. "Passion is not love or respect. I have seen a marriage with no respect..." She could not continue. To say more was not needed.

Darcy hated the powerless feeling he had as Elizabeth released her fears. There was nothing he could _do _to alleviate her concerns and he was shocked to hear them. He had always considered them well-matched. Long before he admitted he loved Elizabeth, he wanted her as his wife. He knew she could bring liveliness and companionship to him. _How could she not see that?_

_Should I embrace her? No, touching her again is a dangerous idea. How else can I reassure her? This is my fault._

He knew he should have at least expressed his regret at having to depart for Town. He should have called at Longbourn first. He should have told her how much he desired to see her when the rain separated them. Last night he told her how beautiful he found her and very eloquently displayed his affection, but he did not tell her he admired her intelligence and wit, that he relished their debates. He should have told her how much he loved her.

Just as he was determining to state his love she declared that passion was not love or respect. Until that moment, it never crossed his mind that she did not reciprocate his regard in some way. _Is that all she feels?_ _Just carnal affection?_

He could scarcely think it of her. To engage in such acts merely for physical gratification would mark her wanton. She was entirely too innocent and pure for that kind of scheming. He knew wanton ladies; they boldly approached him with a hard glint in their eyes, not the soft expression Elizabeth had. Perhaps she did not know her feelings. He had to believe there was some kind of awakening of feelings for both of them in the Netherfield library and, due to the pressures of the last fortnight, she had not had time to fully explore them.

He must say something, but decided to withhold his statement of love and attempt to address her concerns the best he could.

Her handkerchief was soaked, so he offered his. "Elizabeth, I desire you for my _wife._ I hold that position in very high regard. If you accept that I did not propose out of obligation, then please accept that I desire more than your _allurements_. I am a grown man. I have withstood temptation for many years. I desire true companionship. On the winter nights we can read together before the fireplace in the library in our townhouse. There will be operas, plays and, regrettably, soirees to attend."

Elizabeth gave him a sharp look. "Regrettably?" She was trying to not judge hastily and assume he did not desire to introduce her to his friends.

"Yes, my Aunt Matlock insists I attend several large events a year. I do not like the large gatherings but it is important as a Darcy and a member of the Fitzwilliam family to attend, to assure my sister's place in society,"he paused for a moment, "and our children's."

Elizabeth blushed prettily and he could not resist smiling.

"I have not hosted many gatherings in the past but I believe you will be an excellent hostess."He grew silent, chasing memories. "My mother was ill much of my childhood and died when I was twelve. Father missed her terribly and seldom entertained. He died when I was two and twenty. Managing the estate and caring for Georgiana has taken up much of my time and effort. I have not been a hospitable neighbour.

"I know you will be liked by my friends and family. I will not lie; some of the _ton _would find fault with_ any_ woman I marry. But there will be many more who are eager to befriend the new Mrs. Darcy. You must beware the false friendships, but I think you will get on well with several of my friends'wives. And your sister will be there, too. I am eager for you to meet mine."

Elizabeth smiled more, an expression Darcy returned. He began to feel bold. He grabbed her left hand and, as had become habit, began tracing circles on it. "You will never lose my respect. I dearly love our _debates_. I dislike deference. I enjoy your teasing…I need it. I confess, in the past I have been prone to spending the majority of my day in my library, but as a husband I hope my wife might enjoy making up parties of our family and friends. I seldom visit my club. I think you would enjoy walks in the park together, and I long to show you the paths of Pemberley!

"You will always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me. All the more beautiful as we age and share our lives together and you carry our children."_The product of our love,_ he wanted to say but chose not to do so.

Darcy could easily sense Elizabeth's usual good spirits returning. "Please allow me to apologise for not being more sensitive to your opinions and concerns. I should have found some way to inform you of my plans to visit Town and begin the preparations. I know you must be offended that I did not consult you on the wedding date, or any of the plans, but you must believe me that this was a rare occurrence and I will not be so preoccupied or exclude you in future." He lifted her hand to his lips. "And you cannot conceive how frequently I prayed for sunshine between my return to Netherfield and the day of the ball. But in the end it was in the Almighty's hands and apparently He desired it so."

Elizabeth arched her brow. "You mean not even the Master of Pemberley can control the weather or get his demands of the Lord?"

Darcy grinned. Elizabeth was clearly feeling better. "Nay, my dear. For I have it on good authority an angel in Longbourn prayed for the sun as well, and if the Lord did not listen to her then why should he listen to me, a mere mortal?"

She blushed again but replied, "I did not say I prayed for sunshine."

"And I did not say I meant _you_! All Bingley can ever speak of is his angel!"

Elizabeth scoffed in disbelief at his tease. She playfully shoved him. "William!"

Darcy captured her hand and pulled her closer. Stroking her cheek he said, "I cannot call you an angel, my alluring temptress, my lovely wood nymph. You are very much a flesh and blood woman, to my immense pleasure."He smirked and Elizabeth could not help but notice his strange fascination with the word.

"No, I would not have you be an angel. You are a goddess. With all the wisdom of Athena, the beauty of Aphrodite, and the love of nature of Artemis. You will be my Demeter and help Pemberley's harvest, my Hestia and make Pemberley a home, and my Hera, the goddess of goddesses, woman above all other women."

Elizabeth could scarcely breathe. But soon enough she gathered her wits to reply. "Very well, sir. Now, we cannot have you be Zeus, for you have admitted to not being able to control the weather. Nor could you be Poseidon, as floods and droughts are not conducive to farming. Might you be Dionysus as you have asked to give more parties? Certainly you are Apollo...god of knowledge."

Darcy had to control the urge to cease her teasing lips. Dionysus was also the god of _ecstasy_ and Apollo the god of _manly beauty_. Was she saying what he hoped? Oh, that he could be her Eros, her god of love. And she would be his Psyche, his very Breath of Life.

Elizabeth was pleased with herself. She knew Darcy was not given to drunkenness, but there was no denying he had been half in his cups the night she walked into the library, and calling him Dionysus was quite fitting. And while he was intelligent, she poked fun at his singing with her, too. Apollo was also the god of music. If she were truthful, however, she would call him Adonis, the god of beauty...and desire.

Taking a deep breath, Darcy smiled at Elizabeth and placed her hand on his arm again. "Come, Elizabeth. I believe I am to meet some of your relatives and we must get you home to them."

Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm and they walked down the main path. As Darcy had allowed his horse to leave, they chose to separate, otherwise Darcy would not have time to refresh himself before the Gardiners arrived. Darcy and Bingley would call on Longbourn at the agreed upon hour to meet the Gardiners.

I've had to change my schedule some. I'll be posting on Saturday evenings EST instead of Sundays now.


	8. Chapter 8

Nothing fun to say this time. I'm exhausted from this weekend and there's still another day left. Thanks for everyone reviewing, reading, favoriting and following. I owe it all to my fabulous betas Jim, Linda B., Rosie J., Candice and Sarah. Any mistakes are my own and anything that sounds like JA is.

**Ch. 8**

"Oh, Sister! Can you believe it? Our Lizzy is marrying a man worth _at least_ ten thousand a year!" Mrs. Bennet screeched as soon as her sister-in-law, Mrs. Gardiner, was handed down from the carriage.

Mrs. Gardiner made some vague answer to her sister-in-law but Elizabeth soon saw her aunt locking eyes with her. There would be an interrogation soon.

"Mamma, let us allow my Aunt and Uncle to rest. Here, I shall take the children to the nursery. I am sure you need to speak with Lizzy about the wedding." Jane intervened and the party broke up.

Elizabeth wrinkled her brow. It was unusual for Jane to think of saving her from one lion by feeding her to another: their mother discussing the wedding. She wished she could speak with Jane about the ball but Jane had slept late that morning and now it seemed as though Elizabeth was going to be busy with her mother the rest of the day. It was her last day at home; why was Jane not eager to spend more time with her?

Elizabeth succeeded in stalling her conversation with Mrs. Gardiner before Bingley and Darcy could arrive. Darcy's earlier words had greatly relieved many of her concerns. Now her anxiety rose from an entirely different quarter. Her mother was simply enthused with the match, her father was content to laugh at the absurdity of it, and Jane was dreamily happy with her own engagement, but her dear aunt would desire to investigate Elizabeth's feelings about the marriage, or rather, her betrothed. Elizabeth hardly knew how to answer.

Mr. Bennet made the introductions between the Gardiners and Darcy and Bingley. Bingley was as open and amiable as ever. Darcy seemed surprised by her London relations. The Gardiners were rather wealthy and looked to be refined people of fashion. As the Gardiners quickly proved to be the only set of relatives she had that did not give her cause to blush, Elizabeth watched Darcy engage Mr. Gardiner in friendly dialogue about fishing. Soon Mrs. Gardiner had her share of the conversation, too. She always animated when speaking of her years in Derbyshire. Upon mentioning, her father, Mr. Clark, had been the vicar at Kympton for several years, Darcy looked at Elizabeth with an odd expression. _Does he not recall our conversation about the connection?_

"Lizzy, it seems you will see Pemberley earlier than I thought. Your uncle and I were planning to invite you on our tour to the Lake District this summer and we intended to visit Lambton and tour Pemberley while we were there."

Elizabeth attempted to conceal her disappointment at missing the chance for the travels. Darcy quickly intervened.

"Please inform us when you intend to be in the area; we would enjoy hosting you. Mrs. Gardiner, I am sure you remember the delights Derbyshire has to offer, and I am certain Miss Elizabeth would enjoy seeing them, especially in the company of her dear aunt and uncle."

Elizabeth beamed at his consideration and felt the compliment was all for herself. She was even more astonished when he continued.

"It has been many years since I visited the Lakes but perhaps we might make up a party for a holiday there with you. We will have no time for a wedding tour due to the winter. Would you enjoy that, Miss Elizabeth?"

"You will find, Mr. Darcy, I have a great curiosity to see the world. It would be wise for your pocketbook not to offer many tours so readily!"

This earned a laugh from the Gardiners.

Turning serious, Darcy replied looking intently in Elizabeth's eyes. "Anything to bring my lady pleasure."

Elizabeth blushed but Darcy's face took on an expression Elizabeth had begun to recognize as teasing.

"Now, Miss Elizabeth, I know your opinion of poetry, but might I entice you, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, with the potential to meet Mr. Wordsworth or Mr. Coleridge? I have a slight acquaintance with them."

Mr. Gardiner replied. "Of course, we would be delighted, sir. But what is this about Lizzy's opinion on poetry? Surely you know she enjoys it!"

He arched his brow to foretell the coming tease. "Does she? I recall her professing a belief that poetry is very efficient at killing love."

Elizabeth interjected, "Only if it is a poor sonnet and a vague inclination, sir."

Mrs. Gardiner laughed merrily. "You do not mean to tell me you have yet to understand Elizabeth's propensity to express opinions which are not her own!"

Elizabeth laughed but replied, "Nay, Aunt. I am quite serious and you would have me make my first object in life to joke. I believe everything nourishes a fine, stout love."

Elizabeth looked to Darcy who seemed quite affected by her declaration. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner shared a smile. Mrs. Gardiner shared her opinion. "What a good philosophy, dear. For through trials in life you will find it necessary to fall in love with your spouse more than once. Be sure to always nourish what you have. It will fall to each of you to guard each other's good qualities and tease each other into happiness in times of melancholy."

Darcy and Elizabeth appeared to reflect on her sage advice but soon Mr. Gardiner interrupted. "My dear, you are leaving out what encourages affection the most."

"And what is that, Uncle?"

"Why dancing, of course! Mr. Darcy, I assure you that if you dance with my niece neither of you can stay cross for long."

They all smiled at each other and were then called to dinner.

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Darcy braced himself for the conversation the men would have in Mr. Bennet's study when they separated from the ladies. Mr. Collins was still confined to bed with his cold and Bingley intended to explain the necessity of advancing his wedding.

Darcy had been able to expedite the process of receiving his special licence due to his connection with the Archbishop. Darcy could help Bingley gain an appointment, but it was doubtful Bingley would receive the special treatment Darcy did. Bingley also needed to meet with his solicitor to finish the settlement with haste. He would likely need a complete week in London. Chagrined at needing to forward the wedding, Bingley hoped Jane might be able to come to London to shop for her trousseau.

Darcy believed he should not be there in the room for such a private conversation. More than that, he had truly enjoyed Mr. Gardiner's company and doubted the gentleman would treat Darcy as cordially after he learned the truth of _his_ engagement. But Bingley requested his presence for support; from the duty of friendship, Darcy did not excuse himself.

The four men settled comfortably in the Longbourn library, the others enjoying Mr. Bennet's port. Bingley cleared his throat.

"Mr. Bennet, I need to speak with you about changing the wedding date. I will also need to depart to London after Darcy's wedding and will be away about a week and would request that Miss Bennet be allowed to journey to London too, so as to not interrupt our betrothal, and allow her to complete her shopping.

Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner exchanged glances. The latter spoke up. "Jane is always welcome to stay with us."

Bingley gave him a weak smile.

Mr. Bennet apparently could not resist the chance to jest. "Impatient, Mr. Bingley? Deciding to follow Mr. Darcy's example?"

Darcy and Bingley both squeezed their eyes shut. Bingley glanced to Darcy and received a nod from his friend.

"Sir, last night...last night I schemed to have a private moment with Miss Bennet. My actions...my _abominable _actions have necessitated that we move the wedding date forward. I expect to have a special licence and the settlement in hand by next Friday."

Darcy was surprised to see Mr. Bennet grow red in rage. "Mr. Bingley! I should call you out!"

Darcy hated that his friend was receiving such harsh treatment when his own actions were far worse. Had Mr. Bennet been kinder to him out of deference to his position? Had Elizabeth said something to calm her father?

"Mr. Bennet, I am certain this comes as a shock but I fail to understand why you are treating Bingley worse than myself."

Mr. Gardiner turned his eyes on Darcy then, first in surprise and then in a mixture of disappointment and understanding.

"Mr. Darcy, the situations are entirely different," Mr. Bennet soothed the younger man.

Darcy could not understand why. He opened his mouth to argue but Bingley interjected. "Darcy, he is correct. The situations are not the same, and you know it."

Darcy looked from Bingley to Mr. Bennet and could not comprehend why they were trying to be so kind. He did not premeditate seducing Elizabeth in anyway, but his actions were the same and he felt he should be held to the same level. Before he could try again to take the blame, Mr. Bennet dismissed him.

"Darcy, you are not required for this discussion. I am sure you remained as a second to your friend, but I promise my brother is well capable of keeping me from losing my head."

Without fully apprehending why, Darcy left the study. He was walking back to the drawing-room, uncertain if he should enter without the other gentlemen when he heard Mrs. Bennet speaking to her sister-in-law.

"Jane is worried for Lizzy's health. She missed her courses, will hardly eat, and you should have seen the state of her nerves the last week! I tell you, Meg, that girl is with child. I knew she could not be so clever for nothing. For years his family wanted him to marry his cousin, but my Lizzy knew how to catch him."

"Fanny, you can not mean it! Not Elizabeth! It is impossible!"

"Well, she was at Netherfield for nearly a week. Or maybe they were meeting clandestinely all along. He did always have his eyes on her from nearly their first meeting..."

Darcy stumbled away from the drawing-room. _Elizabeth is with child?_

Suddenly, a thousand thoughts flashed in his mind. Worries for her health and safety, memories of his mother's frequent miscarriages and death after childbirth, mixed with images of Elizabeth heavy with child, beautiful beyond compare and walking the paths of Pemberley. Would it be a son? His heir? He hoped the lad would be livelier than he had been; with such a mother it had to be an improvement on his own childhood. Or a daughter? With the dark curls and sparkling eyes of Elizabeth?

He heard the Gardiner children at play above them and Elizabeth's laughter rang out. He knew he should regret his actions all the more, but somehow he felt everything progressed as it was meant to. If he had not lost his senses and seduced Elizabeth, would he have proposed? Would he have the great good fortune to have her as mother to his children? Or would he have realized his love for her too late?

He could not forget that only a fortnight ago he vowed never to marry her and believed he might need to separate Bingley from Jane. A fortnight ago he was proud, arrogant and selfish. If he did offer for her without this over his head he would not have been worthy of her and she would have had every right to refuse him. He would always regret his ungentlemanly behaviour, but if those very actions led to something so miraculous as making him a better man, let alone creating a child, he might learn to forgive himself.

He was pleased to hear Elizabeth's laughter, too. It sounded as though she was happy with the situation. Recalling her words from the morning, where she seemed to imply no deep regard on her side, he could only hope she was happy to be having _his _child. Rationally, he argued she had been under the misapprehension that he disapproved of her then. Hopefully the words they shared in the last two days repaired the damage and gave her a more complete sketch of his character. He was entirely unsure of her true sentiments towards him but they would be a family. They would be happy. He would ensure it.

Taking a deep breath he decided to take a walk in the garden as he contemplated his new duties and obligations as a father, and tried to make sense of all the feelings welling in his heart.

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The Bennet sisters chose to go upstairs and visit with the Gardiner children rather than sit with their mother and aunt. Elizabeth particularly relished the opportunity; after tomorrow it would be the height of impropriety for her to behave so. Still, she vowed when she had her own children she would spend a good deal of time with them every day, instead of only seeing them in passing, no matter the fashions of the _ton. _

In another situation she would have mentioned child rearing before accepting a proposal. She could barely hazard a guess as to Darcy's preferences on the subject, but she reckoned they could do no worse than her own parents, even if they disagreed entirely. Two sensible people undoubtedly had the advantage over parents lackadaisical and silly.

Her aunt arrived in the nursery and asked to speak with Elizabeth alone. She blushed. At first she worried about her aunt questioning her on her feelings for Darcy and then feared her aunt intended to give her guidance on the wedding night. She was genuinely relieved her mother did not join them.

Enclosed in her room, aunt and niece sat on the bed. "Elizabeth, I wanted to speak with you on this hasty engagement, to a gentleman I am told you greatly disliked only a few weeks ago."

Elizabeth blushed in remembrance of her prejudices. "Aunt, it is true. I disliked Mr. Darcy. I was very wrong in my first impressions. And I was nonsensical and prejudiced after I overheard him make an unfortunate comment at a ball. But it is of no importance now. We are very good friends."

Mrs. Gardiner looked at Elizabeth for a long moment. "Friendship is not love, which I know you hoped for. Why did you accept him? I do not mean to malign you, but why did he offer for you? He admires you greatly, it is quite clear, but it would have to be a very great sort of love for a man of his standing to marry you unless..."

Elizabeth gasped. "Aunt, how can you think it?!"

"Your mother certainly does. She says you have missed your courses. You do know what that typically means for married ladies—or those that engage in marital acts while unwed—do you not?"

Elizabeth answered earnestly. "Yes, but I have done no such thing. This has happened before when I am overly anxious. I am certain my courses will come soon."

"Elizabeth, I want you to tell me truthfully everything that happened between you and Mr. Darcy while you stayed at Netherfield. I must know how this improvement of opinion progressed."

Elizabeth relayed in all seriousness the events that changed her opinion of Darcy. Her aunt's interference may appear intrusive to some, but Elizabeth held her in very high esteem and valued her opinion. When she was finished, her aunt seemed to search Elizabeth's countenance for the truth.

"Then it is as I said. He must love you a very great deal. How do you feel about having such unequal affections?"

"Oh, Aunt! No, he does not love me. Maybe someday we will grow to love each other but for now I am content with admiration and respect. I think we are well suited to one another."

"It is good that you have sensible things to rely on as well as these new feelings."

Elizabeth began to protest but her aunt interrupted. "Lizzy! You both are trying so hard to find some manner of rational explanation for this engagement when it is anything but. Now, I will tell you how very much I like him; he is perfectly amiable. I will be very much surprised if you are not soon both quite in love and the happiest creatures in the world.

"Since your mother has determined that you are with child she has decided she does not need to speak with you on your wedding night duties. Do you have any questions?"

Elizabeth blushed furiously but answered truthfully. "I am a country girl...I understand the…mechanics. I trust Mr. Darcy; I know I will be well."

"You understand there will be pain and likely some bleeding the first time?"

Elizabeth paled a little but nodded.

Mrs. Gardiner patted her niece's hands. "Very well, dear. Now, I believe the men should be in the drawing room by now."

Elizabeth took quite some time to recover from the distraction of her conversation with her aunt. She was entirely oblivious to the embarrassed and strained expressions of Bingley and Jane, and the cross looks her father and uncle sent the couple.

After some time Bingley enquired if the betrothed couples might walk in the garden. Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm after helping her with her cloak. Although she told herself she was silly, she blushed deeply at the thought of his nearness.

"Are you well, Elizabeth?"

She studied her feet. "Very."

"How have you been passing your afternoon?" He smiled.

Elizabeth looked up and smiled brightly in return. "With the children! I am surprised you could not hear us."

His smile widened. "Indeed, I did. Your laughter is always a delight to hear but you seemed thoroughly happy with them."

"I was! I adore all children but my cousins are great favourites of mine." She bit her lip before deciding to continue. "The Gardiners are unusually close to their children and my aunt often spends much of her day with them even though they have a nurse and governess. When I compare that with my own rearing…"

"I believe I understand completely. It is popular in the _ton _to have little to do with one's children. But I would not want my children to be raised entirely by paid help."

"I agree, sir. I am pleased to find we are of a like mind on this."

Darcy decided he needed to confirm what he heard. "Is that...is that something you have thought often of lately?"

"Yes, under present circumstances, it seems prudent to consider." They would be married tomorrow and who knew how quickly they would become parents. Elizabeth rather liked the idea of having his children, even as she blushed thinking about the intimacies involved in creating them.

Darcy grinned, he could not suppress it even if he desired to.

Elizabeth saw his marvellous smile and her breath caught. "What makes you smile so much?"

"You have made me so happy, Elizabeth." She carried his child! Something truly beautiful would be made from the blunder he made due to his pride. Before he could say more they were called back into the house.

They were allowed no more privacy for the evening. Darcy and Bingley soon took their leave, not staying for supper. Supper was a quiet and early affair. Everyone needed their rest for the wedding on the morrow.

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The wedding day dawned with a start as her mother's frantic calls filled the house, but Elizabeth could hardly say she felt any different about such alarms as on any other day.

Finished with her preparations for the ceremony, due to begin in an hour, she waited in a seldom-used parlour. She needed quiet while the rest of the house was aflutter.

Darcy was expected to arrive momentarily. He mentioned some of his relatives might be in attendance, although he was unsure how many. Elizabeth thought it was odd, but there was such short notice and surely his lofty relations were busy.

Unexpectedly, Mrs. Hill announced a visitor for Elizabeth. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Miss de Bourgh, for you Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth was all astonishment but dropped a curtsy. She had barely risen before the lady's diatribe began.

"You must understand the reason for my journey here."

Elizabeth knew Lady Catherine would not look upon her marriage to Darcy with complacency, but she never expected the lady to arrive to voice her disapproval. Elizabeth chose to ignore the statement. She would not grovel for approval.

"Welcome to Longbourn, Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh. Mr. Darcy is to arrive shortly. May I offer you and your daughter some refreshment?"

"You ought to know I am not to be trifled with. A report of the most alarming nature reached me two days ago, that you believe yourself engaged to my nephew, Mr. Darcy! Though I know this a scandalous falsehood, I set off to make my sentiments known to you. I hoped to hear it universally contradicted."

"Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family," said Elizabeth coolly, "will be rather a confirmation of it."

"I am almost Darcy's nearest relation. I am entitled to know all his dearest concerns. This match can never take place. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter!"

"If he is then he would never offer for me."

Miss de Bourgh had stood oddly jerking her hands, half hidden behind her imposing mother but roused to action after Elizabeth's last words. She shrieked and lunged for the wedding bonnet lying on a nearby chair. She tried to rip off the layers of lace, laughing maniacally.

She was hardly successful, but Elizabeth watched with a sort of glee. She hated the bonnet her mother chose. As quickly as it emerged, Miss de Bourgh's fury faded. Her mother was shouting commandments at her as Miss de Bourgh turned pale and seemed to have difficulty breathing. She was clearly in pain, Elizabeth noticed, and as her hands continued to jerk they looked painfully red. Elizabeth took the young woman's elbow and guided her to a sofa before pouring her a glass of water. Elizabeth turned and looked expectantly at Lady Catherine, who had not ceased her abuse, taking no notice of the plight of her daughter.

Darcy's voice boomed from the doorway. "That is enough!" he cried, coming into the room. "How could you ever think I would marry Anne? And how could you ever think Elizabeth would need to use arts and allurements to gain my notice? Do you not see what she just did for your daughter, even as you insult her in every way imaginable? How could I not love her?"

Darcy stopped speaking as the whole room, and he sensed those behind him as well, looked sharply in his declaration. Elizabeth's face assumed an unreadable expression but her eyes misted.

When she regained her breath, Lady Catherine would not be gainsaid. "Love? Love! Honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid this match. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or friends, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us."

"These are heavy misfortunes," replied Elizabeth. "But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine."

Darcy brightened at her words and walked to her. "Are you well? I was waiting for my uncle to arrive but when he was late I chose to come ahead rather than keep you waiting."

"Yes, though I fear the bonnet is ruined. I hope you do not mind." She gave him an impish grin as she picked it up for his inspection. "I will have to thank your aunt and cousin for being of use to rid me of this hat!"

She laughed a little and Darcy returned the smile. There was an unspoken agreement between the two to not allow Lady Catherine and Anne de Bourgh's display of ill breeding to ruin their wedding day.

Lady Catherine continued in the background until another male voice joined the fray. As Elizabeth did not recognize it, she could only assume it was a relation to Darcy. "Catherine! Cease this immediately."

Lady Catherine jumped at the voice. "Dickie!" She cleared her throat. "Matlock, what are you doing here?"

Elizabeth gasped. Darcy's uncle, the earl, was in her home!

"I could ask the same of you! You were told repeatedly Darcy would not marry Anne. Then you come on his wedding day, to try to destroy the match? If nothing else, can you not see how this would harm the family's reputation? Are you devoid of every proper feeling?"

Lady Catherine exclaimed, "Wedding day? I come to prevent the false announcement of this betrothal at a ball!" Turning to Elizabeth and Darcy she declared, "Good Lord! Is _this_ your wedding dress? Darcy, what on earth are you marrying?"

Darcy took a step towards his aunt. "The ball was held two nights ago, but how did you know of it?" His aunt was silent but Darcy could easily guess. Turning towards Elizabeth he explained, "Now we see what was so important that your cousin faced the rain on Monday and caught cold. Due to the rain the ink must have smudged."

Anne began muttering something and proceeded to cough, drawing the earl's notice. Lord Matlock hissed quietly so only the occupants of the room could hear. "Catherine, where is Mrs. Jenkinson? Anne needs her tonic! I am pleased you do not keep her locked away like some do but this fantasy that Darcy would marry her opens you both to ridicule!"

Lady Catherine seemed properly chastised, for the moment. "If he does not take her, who will? Only he would overlook her...deficiencies. Pemberley could pass to Georgiana's children. Who will care for Anne when I am gone?"

Matlock, Darcy and Elizabeth stared at her in disbelief. Darcy replied reassuringly, "Aunt, how can you doubt your family? We will see to Anne but Pemberley needs a healthy mistress and heir. Would you deny me the joy of fatherhood?" He glanced to Elizabeth, who blushed deeply. "She is very worthy and capable of the role. Mother would have liked her."

Lady Catherine only clucked disgustedly in return.

"You will wait here until the breakfast is over and we shall arrange for your return to Kent," Matlock said.

Elizabeth spoke up. "Please, sir. Miss de Bourgh looks as though she needs rest and refreshment. We have an empty guest room…"

"Absolutely not!" Lady Catherine replied with all her past fury reawakened. "I will not abide here another moment, with _these people_. Darcy, you will arrange for us to stay where you were."

Darcy and the earl laughed out right. "Aunt, my friend Bingley was my host. He is _leasing_ a nearby estate."

Lady Catherine gulped. It was clear she recalled Darcy's friendship with Bingley and his close connection to trade. As Anne began to cough again the lady seemed to relent. "Very well, Darcy. Anne needs her rest. That is the _least _you owe her."

Bingley stuck his head into the room. Darcy and Elizabeth stifled a shared groan at the knowledge that the whole household knew of the argument.

"Madam, I would be pleased to host you and your daughter." Glancing back he spoke to his sister, who was trying to peek inside. "Caroline, might you go with them and speak with the housekeeper?"

Darcy and Elizabeth both gave him a grateful look. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity and people were shooed to their proper places. Elizabeth braced for her mother to have an attack of nerves with an earl in the house but she remained acceptably composed and managed to direct things as necessary.

Before Elizabeth could make much sense of things she was walked by her father to the Longbourn parish pastor who stood in the decorated drawing-room. Soon, Darcy was pledging to love, comfort, and honour Elizabeth. She could not deny the thrill she felt as he declared he would love and cherish her. She was his, Elizabeth Rebecca Darcy, as something told her she was always meant to be.

He smirked a little as she rushed over her promise to obey. When he slid a beautiful heirloom emerald ring onto her finger she was radiant.

The wedding breakfast was a complete blur. Her mother tried to make it as elaborate as possible given the short notice. She met the Earl of Matlock with all proper decorum. He seemed very amiable and even conversed with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though he managed to avoid Mr. and Mrs. Phillips. Elizabeth enjoyed the obvious pride and joy on Darcy's face when he formally introduced her as Mrs. Darcy. She rather liked the title herself.

Upon finishing her goodbyes to her family, saving her father for last, Darcy escorted her to the door. Jane came flying at her and squeezed her tight before placing one of her own hats on her sister's head and tying it.

"One last sisterly act, dear Lizzy." Jane spoke with tears pooling in her eyes.

Darcy squeezed her hand and led her to the carriage. Facing opposite her husband in the luxurious carriage, she strained her eyes to catch the last glimpses of her childhood home.

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I know, I know, there's no wedding night here. You'll just have to wait for the next update to find out what happens!


	9. Chapter 9

I'm posting early because my husband has a new work schedule and I don't like having to rush through it on the other days. Thanks again for all the reads and reviews! Thanks to my lovely betas Jim, Linda B., Rosie J., Candice and Sarah but any mistakes you find are my own and anything that sounds like JA is.

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Note: Some matters of housekeeping first.

I've not directly said this in the comments before because I was hoping later chapters would make it clear. Mr. Bennet does not know that Darcy believes he had sex with Elizabeth. In the interest of being brief, I'll quote Rosie J., on it:

There's no indication that Mr. Bennet knows what Darcy believes happened. Darcy didn't state it outright, and Elizabeth gave Mr. Bennet an accurate report. Mr. Bennet doesn't know that Darcy doesn't actually _remember_. The lack of chastisement in the first place should have been a clue, and Mr. Bennet's much more severe reaction to Bingley's transgression also should have made Darcy reconsider, but as was said in one of the adaptations... he is never wrong. Or he certainly thinks that.

This story is told from the limited point of view of Darcy and Elizabeth, so while we can easily see the points where they misunderstand each other it should also be believed they easily misunderstand others just as well. There is pride and prejudice in this story. Every character is holding to their prejudices of what they believed happened, even if they were not present, and several people have too much pride to discuss the matter in an open way, in addition to it being distasteful to do so.

I am sorry if that has been confusing or frustrating for readers but at least it seems that it is easy to believe Darcy thought he was clear in his conversation with Mr. Bennet.

The other matter is that several people are concerned about the reaction when the truth comes out. In my opinion, Hunsford is important in Canon because of what the characters learn about themselves. After that point they then view the world differently. While apart they attempted to understand what they knew of the other person and seem to make great headway when reunited at Pemberley, but it's not perfect. There is still doubt. And it's more heart wrenching than the Hunsford refusal is. While in this story Hunsford happened slowly for both Darcy and Elizabeth and not at each other's direct hands—although the starting incident was the library encounter—or with insults and shouting, they have had their Hunsford moments. What we will see with the truth telling is something that looks more like the post-Pemberley scenes.

I don't promise it is pleasant and without tears, but it is not a huge blow up. There is not a fractured marriage. I would not introduce that kind of angst at this point in the story.

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**Ch. 9**

As they drove beyond the Meryton boundary on the road towards London,

Darcy watched his wife's eyes filled with tears. He pulled the curtains shut and crossed to the other side of the carriage. He withdrew his handkerchief to gently wipe her eyes, untied her bonnet, and pulled her into his embrace. It was as much for his comfort as for Elizabeth's, but she seemed to readily accept his attentions.

He surmised she felt overwhelmed by the events of the day. His aunt and cousin's attack, followed by the wedding, and compounded by leaving her home and family behind; he could understand her anxiety. As much as he loved her, he acknowledged they knew little of each other. Here he was, minutes into his marriage, and his wife was sobbing in his arms. He prayed it was only due to the emotions of the day and not the added concern of being alone with him, of being his wife.

He began to realize how he really had no clue how to be a husband or soothe a woman. He was little more than a child when his mother died and scarcely knew how to comfort his sister. Darcy could not summon the perfect words to say and chose to simply hold her and caress her back. He pressed kisses into her hair and was pleased she seemed comforted by his meagre attempts and nestled even closer.

After some amount of time, they fell asleep, still nestled in their embrace. The footman's call that they had arrived at the coaching inn to change the horses awoke them. His arms felt quite bereft when Elizabeth pulled from him and declared she desired to see to some personal needs during their wait.

When they returned to the carriage she appeared in better spirits. Darcy smiled as she chose to sit beside him. He immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"How are you feeling, dear?"

"Better. It was just the nerves from today, and, well, the last few weeks. I am usually not given to anxiety."

"It is quite natural. I too have felt the effects of the day and the tumult of our engagement. But now there is no rushing. We have the rest of our lives to know one another."

Elizabeth gave him a grateful smile that soon turned teasing. "And our odd relatives? You have met all of mine. Do you have any others, sir?"

Smiling Darcy returned her playfulness. "Relatives, or do you only mean the odd ones?" This earned a chuckle from Elizabeth and he was delighted that he had eased her spirits.

Turning serious she carefully replied, "You have only a younger sister, I believe."

Darcy's smile turned wistful. "Georgiana. She is more than ten years my junior and the dearest creature, doubly precious as she was my only immediate family until we married. Mother died shortly after her birth. My cousin Richard and I have been her guardians since Father died five years ago." A variety of emotions passed across his eyes while he was speaking. He grew silent.

"I understand she is very accomplished." Elizabeth pushed for more information with obvious nervousness.

The tone in her voice gained Darcy's attention. "Miss Bingley is a shameless flatterer when she feels it to her advantage. You are clever enough to guess that she sought not only to garner favour from me, but she was attempting to insult you during her speech on accomplishments. Georgiana is but fifteen. She excels in music but has little patience to show true proficiency in the other arts yet, nor will I pressure her to learn them. She is fond of reading. She is also painfully shy. I believe she will gain as much from your liveliness as I will." He squeezed her hand and Elizabeth let out an audible exhale.

"And your other relatives? Lord Matlock seems very amiable."

"Yes, my mother's generation of Fitzwilliams were quite varied. I am told Mother was quiet and shy and that Georgiana is quite like her, but in my memories Mother is always perfect and serene, not quite as reserved as my sister and I. She shocked the older generation of her family with a love match to my father. They wanted a titled man but she was firm in her love for him."

Elizabeth nodded her head. "She sounds like Jane. She used to be dreadfully shy but we Bennets are nothing if not adaptable; in time she learned to find an inner peace and project such serenity outward. This masks her fervent feelings, not dissimilar to your own, I suspect, and she will only marry for love."

Darcy was amazed at Elizabeth's words. When Bingley first proposed, Darcy had not believed Jane had regard for his friend. Had Darcy not been so consumed with his own concerns or knew Bingley entertained serious thoughts about Jane, he would have considered warning Bingley off. Afterwards, whilst there was little he could do about his friend's engagement, especially after events at the Ball, he had remained sceptical, although he could not assign terrible motives on Jane's part for the incident at the Ball. Now, he searched his memory and recognised her countenance when with Bingley was quite like his mother's calm affection for his father. Perhaps it was fortunate he had not had a chance to interfere, both for his friend's happiness and his own relations with his wife and her family.

"And the other Fitzwilliams?" Elizabeth's voice startled him for his musings.

"The earl's four children are as amiable as he. You already know Lady Catherine is horribly overbearing."

He paused again as the events of the morning raced through his head. "I owe you an apology."

"You cannot be held responsible for the actions of your family." Her words made his heart clench.

"That is exactly it. During our engagement you have felt unsure of my affections many times. And I have repeatedly declared how much I value _you. _I have denied any desire for a wife only of rank and fortune, but you still seem to believe I had my doubts."

"Yes," Elizabeth replied. She stirred uneasily.

"Did you..._do _you believe I hold your family in contempt? Is that why you have been so upset today? You fear you will not see them often?"

The tears flooding her eyes were answer enough. "I will admit their behaviour _to you_ often disgusts me. I speak more of your parents' lack of consideration for your feelings. Though claiming to love you, they display impudence and vulgarity in their lack of decorum. Please believe me; although I cannot be at ease with them, I would welcome your visits with them either in Hertfordshire or in any of our home. I know what it is to lose family. I would never ask that of you simply for my own comfort."

Elizabeth took a shaky breath. "Thank you. I know most of them are quite indecorous but I love them. And what is more, they love _me,_ and as I enter _your _world and _your _family with an unsure reception, they mean all the more to me."

She paused for a moment, then softly added, "I fear you will come to regret me…come to think I am too like them, regret that I am not enough like the ladies of the _ton_. If I embarrass you, will you think me as wild and vulgar as my family?"

Darcy was stunned to realise he had never considered Elizabeth would feel that way, though he secretly believed she over simplified her family's acceptance of her. Did he not hear her mother criticise her frequently?

Darcy took one of her hands and raised it to his lips before speaking. "I am sorry you fear for your acceptance. I hope meeting my uncle has helped assuage some of your fears. I could never regret you. Let me express from the bottom of my heart that I am humbled and ashamed by my aunt's actions. I cannot criticise your family when my own is much worse. And I see now I must value them for the way they shaped your life and made you into the fascinating woman you are. And I thank you for not judging me too harshly in light of _my _vulgar relations."

They sat in silence. Darcy held Elizabeth's hand on his chest, over his beating heart. He certainly felt a closer intimacy with Elizabeth than he ever had before. It was liberating to express his feelings about her family, although disconcerting to see how wrong they had once been. Even more gratifying, Elizabeth accepted him still although she had seen yet another side of the worst in him. With everyone else he needed to be the master of Pemberley, faultless in all roles: master, landlord, nephew, cousin, brother, and friend. Elizabeth saw who he truly was.

At long last she broke the silence. "I believe we were discussing your Fitzwilliam relatives?"

"My mother had three other siblings but they died young. A fever struck the family and left tragedy in its wake. Such was nearly the case with Anne."

"Does she still suffer?"

"She was such a gentle and happy child until a bout with scarlet fever one year. Now she is often plagued with pains in her body and heart. The fever occasionally returns. Lately she has been prone to...outbursts and uncontrolled movements. The physicians have evaluated her and can only say this is sometimes an unfortunate consequence of her fever. She is not always so incapacitated. In her right mind she has no desire to marry; she is not fixed upon me. But during these attacks she is...unstable."

Darcy had grown quite distressed speaking of the subject but Elizabeth attempted to soothe him. "It must be difficult to see an illness take such a hold on a loved one."

Darcy only nodded. It was always acutely painful to see his loved ones suffer and pass, and he had certainly seen it many times over. Now he had the added burden of responsibility for helping to manage the de Bourgh estate.

Elizabeth's voice broke in again. "My mother's siblings have that same range of behaviour as your own wider family's. Surely you see Mr. Gardiner is nothing like Mrs. Phillips or my mother. I hope you liked the Gardiners."

Squeezing her hand, he smiled. "I truly did. They were very pleasant. We have been invited to dine with them while we are in London after the holidays, unless you would rather host them. I leave it to you to select the date." Elizabeth smiled and Darcy was grateful Mr. Gardiner seemed ready to overlook his sins where Elizabeth was concerned.

"My father had no surviving siblings. Did yours?"

"Two older sisters lived; they married and moved far away. I rarely see them. Father's youngest brother drowned as a youth, another one died as an infant and the one nearest his age died in the colonies during the war. His family had desired he enter the church but he was not suited to that kind of quiet life, apparently." Darcy sighed. Speaking of it brought to mind his father's fervent wish for Wickham to enter the church to be spared such a fate.

"So much loss, so young. Wealth can only offer comforts for the time we are allowed on this earth, for it can neither assure happiness or preservation of life."

They grew pensive but Darcy could not bear for Elizabeth to be left melancholy on their wedding day. "This will not do. Let us speak of something more cheerful. What think you of books?"

Elizabeth laughed. "William, what kind of question is that? Do you mean to ask if I enjoy reading? Do you wish to discuss a specific title or genre? Or should I say something that displays my refined taste?" She arched a brow and fluttered her eyelashes. "Very well, I do think books look best in a library, closed and on the shelves. The colour of their spines offsets the wood found in such a room. There, do I sound like a fashionable lady?"

Darcy chuckled at the image she created to ease her obvious nerves. "Elizabeth, you know I would not have you be anything but your intelligent self. I know you enjoy reading. Do you like just the usual histories and poetry?" He watched in satisfaction as his words took away her unease and she answered without reservation.

"Of course not! I read many things, even all the current novels, and their satires as well. Does that shock you?"

She laughed when he replied in the negative. "If I ever wrote my own satire, however, I would write the gentleman in the role of the virtuous servant Pamela who resists the seductions of her master."

He tried to contain his smile. He was not shocked at all that she had read the famous novel, or held such an unusual opinion. Once again his fantasy of Elizabeth proved too true to the real thing, however, he must not dwell on such things. Darcy turned his mind back to the present from remembrance of Elizabeth's responses to him in that particular fantasy.

Arching a brow he replied, "I believe that has been done. Was not Joseph Andrews virtuous to his Fanny? Did he not resist the enticements of a wealthy and titled lady?"

He was also unsurprised to see her acknowledge that she had read Henry Fielding's parody of _Pamela_, in which her brother was just as chaste as she.

Elizabeth looked at him appraisingly. "I must agree. Although Fielding was mocking Richardson, I did find Joseph Andrews' celibacy refreshing compared to the hypocrisy of Mr. Bountiful, who only desired to seduce Pamela and had at least one natural child. Or even Fielding's Tom Jones, who is too happy to be lost in the arms of various temptresses, and possibly fathered a child by one, while proclaiming love for another."

She paused and seemed disappointed not to have shocked or provoked him with her demand for male celibacy.

Darcy decided to turn the tables on her. "You seem quite put out by the men acknowledging their natural children. It is their obligation to care for the child and its mother. What would you have them do instead?"

Her eyes flashed and Darcy suppressed his slight smile.

"What wife would enjoy thinking that of her husband? Of knowing he held affection for someone else? How can she trust his vow of fidelity? Especially as these women love the men, it is not a mere marriage of convenience they hope to make."

"You speak passionately on the subject."

"I am convinced nothing but mutual affection can lead to marital felicity or self-respect." Darcy nodded his head in agreement and she continued. "But it is more than that: it is the lack of prudence which is offensive. Those men would rob the legitimate heir of his due to fund this other child; steal from a daughter's dowry to put up a child and mother, and all for selfish desires. I know it is the honourable way when an innocent child is begat but it is not the _most_ honourable way for a gentleman to behave."

"You talk as though maintaining one woman and child with modest expectations is an expensive feat."

"You are speaking to a woman who knows the sense of economy. My father spends the whole of his income each year and one hundred pounds each on us sisters. A gentleman would be hard pressed to support his child and its mother on much less than that, not considering the more expensive gentleman's education if the child is a boy, and yet it would rob my family of the comforts we have. Certainly you can see we are not outfitted in the newest styles and expensive trimmings, and our carriage horses work on the farm as well."

After a pause she shook her head and began anew. "However, I do not speak of that kind of virtue. Consider Pamela's lowly position as a servant and her willingness to spurn being well settled as mistress of the wealthy Mr. Bountiful to keep her chastity and respectability. Not only are gentlemen _not_ expected to be chaste, I doubt they are taught to spurn the seduction of a handsome fortune or fine estate for nearly any reason. You nearly did not."

"You think not?"

"You must confess the truth! It was another point among your fastidious standards for suitable women."

"When I first met you I admit I felt more akin to Tom Jones than Joseph Andrews, yes."

"Worried of falling into the web of certain lady of great means?" She smirked and he understood she referenced Miss Bingley.

He suppressed a shudder. "Certainly not. I was never tempted by Miss Bingley." He paused and then clarified the matter, "I have had one who would steal all that is mine."

"The great master of Pemberley made to feel like an impoverished foundling? Unacknowledged by your only living parent, cheated by the companion of your youth, and nearly losing your rightful inheritance? Come, sir, it cannot be."

"Oh, but it is. In matters of affection and attention I was cheated. The same villain attempted to force himself into marriage with my sister—a more faithful portrait of Sophia there could never be. She is everything beautiful, youthful, innocent, modest and tender."

Elizabeth gasped. "How awful. How was she saved?"

"By the merest chance."

Darcy did not desire to speak of Wickham this day so he chose to alter the course of the conversation again. It seemed no matter what he _did_ speak to Elizabeth about that night in the library, which charmed her enough to come to his bed, it was not on the subject of _Pamela_ or seduction. Still, he found himself feeling bold enough to speak some of the words he wished he shared with her then.

"You are incorrect in your assumptions of what I desired in a woman, Elizabeth. I might not have known exactly why I was never drawn to any other lady before but I knew I wanted a woman who could match me intellectually and defend her opinions. I did not want timidity and I was sick of deference."

He paused and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. "Shortly after meeting you I found I admired impertinence and a lively mind very much."

Elizabeth gasped at the contact but bravely spoke. "You refused the trappings of society all along, like Pamela?"

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "I did and I think I was always longing for you, Lizzy." She blushed and he added, "And dear, so you know, I have been like Joseph Andrews as well. You need have no fear of our children's money being spent on others."

He bestowed a tender kiss, but lingered on her lips almost as a promise of more to come later. Elizabeth sighed happily as he broke the contact and they continued the discussion of literature until the carriage passed onto the cobbled streets of London.

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Elizabeth, aside from her fit of nerves at the beginning of the journey, greatly enjoyed the ride to London with Darcy. His apology for his dislike of her family was touching. She appreciated he allowed her to speak her mind so freely—not just about books—but also her opinion of the discrepancies and hypocrisies in the expectations of men and women. She was even more pleased to learn he shared her views and, if she understood him correctly, had never succumbed to carnal temptation before.

As they passed through the streets of London, she began to recognize an ache in her lower back and cramping in her pelvis. She was mortified that her courses would arrive, of all times, on her wedding day! But the jostling of the carriage was exacerbating her pains and producing a headache as well. She had never felt her pains so acutely before, and she could only assume it was due to their late arrival, compounded by her recent anxieties and now the travel. The conversation waned and Elizabeth was grateful for the quiet of her own thoughts. She fervently prayed they would soon reach Darcy's house.

They passed several magnificent and large houses before coming to a stop. Elizabeth peered out the window and, although she felt unwell, she could not stifle her laughter.

Darcy looked at her quizzically, and possibly felt a bit offended.

"Excuse me, I do not mean to offend. It is a lovely house, and I am very pleased with it."

Darcy relaxed significantly.

"It is only that as we passed the other enormous homes I became more nervous about the likely size of yours. Now I recall that Miss Bingley never fawned over your London house. I imagine she fancied you would take a lease on something grander if you married her, but I much prefer less ostentation."

She looked at the perfectly charming and adequate home in Mayfair but also acknowledged it was small and dated compared to several other majestic structures nearby.

Darcy's lips twitched in amusement. "What do you find diverting, sir?"

"The Hursts lease a house in Grosvenor Street, so you can imagine her expectations. The Darcys did have a lease on a larger home but Father gave it up after Mother died. This home was brought to the estate by my father's mother. You understand, of course, most of the houses are owned by families like the Grosvenors and then leased out, but this is a Darcy possession. It might not be palatial but it is ours." He smiled and Elizabeth saw his obvious pride, not in the house and his wealth, but in his heritage.

The door to the carriage opened and Darcy descended then turned, ready to hand her out. Elizabeth stood and was seized with a horrible cramping sensation so strong she cried out in pain.

Darcy was at her side in an instant. Before she knew it he was carrying her into the house and hurriedly introducing her to the housekeeper, dismissing the assembled servants and calling for a physician.

"William, please. I do not need a physician. I will be perfectly well soon. Please, just take me to my chambers. I trust there is a maid who can see to me."

Darcy was adamant about sending for a physician and Elizabeth had no strength to argue, especially as doing so would necessitate she relate to him the cause for her discomfort, a conversation she desperately wished to avoid.

Less than an hour later she was bathed and in a night shift with her hair plaited and in her bed when the doctor entered the room.

"Mrs. Darcy, I am Dr. Matthews. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Elizabeth shyly returned the civility.

"Can you tell me your complaint?"

Although she blushed profusely, Elizabeth explained that her courses had arrived and her opinion as to the cause of the intensity of the symptoms.

"I agree entirely," he said as he packed up his bag.

"Doctor…" Elizabeth hesitantly began. "Could you...that is, would you please inform Mr. Darcy as to the cause of my indisposition?"

His eyes widened a little. "Mrs. Darcy, I understand you are a newlywed, but Mr. Darcy must have some understanding of ladies. He has raised his very young sister, after all."

"Please, doctor. I hate to bring him disappointment."

"Ah, I suppose I was thinking more clinically than that. Very well. He is likely to make an inquisition of it as soon as I exit this room at any rate."

He said his farewells and left her with some laudanum for the pain. Elizabeth took his draught and gratefully fell into a deep sleep.

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"Dr. Matthews, please tell me how my wife is faring." Darcy was exceedingly agitated and paced around his study where the men were meeting. He did not know Dr. Matthews very well. His usual physician, Dr. Ashton, was unavailable. Dr. Matthews, who had stood in for Dr. Ashton before, was called. He seemed to lack a certain bed side manner but was a very capable physician.

"She is not ill. She is only indisposed, as is the natural way of things with healthy women. I realise this is frustrating as you are newly married, but for her own comfort you should certainly abstain."

"She is well?"

The doctor nodded affirmatively and Darcy visibly relaxed.

"We had planned to depart for my estate soon and have another journey planned soon. Is she well enough to travel."

"Certainly. She may tire more easily but it is nothing I would restrict."

"How long will she be indisposed?"

The doctor replied uncertainly. "It varies with each woman. I am certain she will inform you when she is entirely over it. In fact, you will indisputably know."

Darcy could only nod in agreement. He hoped the doctor would give him an estimated date of birth, but simple math would tell everyone the babe was due in August. Other than that, they came in their own time and Darcy would certainly "indisputably" know when the baby arrived.

Abstaining from relations until after she recovered from the babe's birth was frustrating to hear, but he would do nothing that could hurt Elizabeth or cause her unease. They had the rest of their lives to join together again as man and wife and he had managed to abstain until that fateful night with her; surely he could manage the next eight months.

A relieved Darcy led Dr. Matthews to the door and the gentleman departed.

The celebratory dinner planned by the housekeeper was cancelled as soon as Darcy had arrived with an unwell Elizabeth in his arms. Instead, he ate simple fare and requested a tray for supper in his rooms. Elizabeth slept straight through it all and he wondered if she even knew where the bell for the servant was to request assistance or food, should she wake and need it. A tray for her was decided against; there was little that would keep for hours on end and Darcy did not know Elizabeth's preferences.

He sat on the sofa in his chambers in his shirt and breeches, the rest of the house long abed. This was certainly not the wedding night he envisioned, and he would be sleeping in separate chambers from his wife for the foreseeable future, but his relief that she was well was beyond compare.

He regretted he had not asked the doctor how he thought Elizabeth would bear under the strains of childbirth. Darcy knew little of the process, only that many women died, including his own mother. There was no denying Elizabeth was much healthier and stronger than his mother had been. Elizabeth's mother bore five children in eight years. Both of his grandmothers bore half a dozen children each and his Aunt Matlock survived four births with no complaints. It was only his mother who seemed to have difficulty. Restating the facts reassured him, slightly.

His heart seized at the knowledge that many of his aunts and uncles did not survive childhood, but he pushed the thought aside. Many medical advancements had been made and frankly, he could only focus on one worry at a time. The future was truly in the Almighty's hands.

Darcy furrowed his brow. He also neglected to ask if the physician should be present at the birth or if a midwife was sufficient. The child would be born at Pemberley, of course. They would arrive there next week and Mrs. Reynolds would know who to suggest for Elizabeth's care and they would return to Pemberley again for the summer, or earlier, if Elizabeth wished it, due to her condition. Certainly there was no need to rush and worry with arrangements and preparations now.

He considered their plans for the next few days. Originally, the plan was to leave for Pemberley on Saturday, staying at an inn for Sunday and arriving before nightfall on Monday. Clearly Elizabeth needed more rest and he should allow for more time to stop. If they left on Monday and arrived on Wednesday, he would still have a week at Pemberley before they needed to leave to arrive in Hertfordshire for Bingley's wedding.

He could not delay the trip any longer than that. He had only intended to visit at Netherfield for three weeks. He dared not admit it to himself at the time, but he could not bring himself to leave Elizabeth. Then he delayed his departure again because of their wedding. No matter his estate's concerns, he would not ask Elizabeth to miss her dearest sister's wedding for anything in the world. It would be exhausting, but they could rest more after they returned to Pemberley. He was glad the doctor confirmed she was safe enough to travel.

Reassured he had done all he could for the time being, he still did not feel sleepy. He cast his eyes about the room in search of a volume to read when he heard the door to Elizabeth's chambers open. Concerned, he exited his room. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the hallway but he heard her gasp; his approach had startled her.

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"Elizabeth, are you well?" She held a candle and Darcy was glad he had heard her, for he feared she would injure herself walking around the house with so little light.

He had seen her in a similar garment before but Elizabeth blushed to be caught stealing out of her bedchamber in only her dressing gown. Although, if things had gone as most wedding nights went he would likely have seen her in far less. The thought made her face burn redder. She was grateful he likely could not see due to the darkness.

"Yes, I am quite well." She turned to re-enter her room when her stomach protested, quite audibly. Elizabeth was sure she would die of mortification.

"I feared you would awaken hungry but would not know how to call your maid. We did not know if we should leave something out for you, or if you would sleep straight through. Please, allow me to show you the cord." Darcy motioned for her to re-enter but she paused.

"How late is it? I would hate to awaken someone, especially on my first night. Oh! What must they think of me? I arrive ill and sleep through the day. I am certain I must have spoiled all of...goodness, I cannot even recall the housekeeper's name!" Elizabeth nervously played with the folds of her dressing gown.

Darcy grabbed her hand, stroking it to calm her. "Elizabeth, all is well. We are pleased you are not ill. The staff are very kind and will not judge you harshly." He chose to tease, to lighten her mood. "I have it on good authority everyone is relieved I did not choose Miss Bingley or a similarly demanding woman as a wife." He could only barely make out her light smile at his jest.

"Truly, they are eager to impress the new mistress. Mrs. Sparks, the housekeeper, wanted to post a maid at your bedside but I thought you might desire your privacy instead of waking up to a stranger." Left unsaid was that he did not know if she would have welcomed him at her side.

"Thank you for the consideration."

"It is after midnight. You must be famished. Let me call a maid."

"No!" Elizabeth cried. "That is…" She trailed off but then raised her chin and squared her shoulders. "I believe I can adequately find something in the kitchen, or prepare a simple pot of tea. I am quite the hoyden and demanded our cook teach me simple things." She shrugged. "I had to escape Mamma somewhere and my walks were sometimes restricted due to weather."

Darcy looked at her in awe. It would not do for Mrs. Darcy to do anything near cooking, but he did not see another way without waking someone and Elizabeth was clearly set against the idea.

"Very well. Take my arm, careful on the steps." Darcy led her down into the kitchen. After lighting several lamps he looked at Elizabeth and was amused at her look of wonder. He could not recall ever spending time in the kitchen but apparently it was impressive, if Elizabeth's reaction was a measure.

Elizabeth turned to him and suddenly realized he was nearly as undressed as she. She could see his chest hair and gulped. Her ease returned when he turned to stoke the fire. Elizabeth understood the layout of the room and quickly busied herself. Bread was sliced and jam spread. Soon the pot of water over the fire was boiling, which Elizabeth ladled into a pot for their tea, but she did so with a practiced hand and proudly served their simple meal. The tea was not locked away and Elizabeth believed it spoke volumes about the staff's loyalty.

Darcy smiled appreciatively but Elizabeth deflected his compliment. "Surely you heard my confession to Mr. Hurst, that I prefer a simple meal to a ragout?"

They shared a smile and were silent for several bites.

"You have seen one of my hidden accomplishments, sir. Have you any? I always thought it unfair that a lady must be accomplished while a man only needed to inherit money from some relative somewhere and charm the lady." She was teasing, they both knew running an estate well was quite an accomplishment and still many more younger sons had professions and earned their income.

"Yes, but you do not appreciate the amount of work it is to charm some people!"

Elizabeth laughed. "It is true. Some are more difficult to impress than others, but _some _also do not seem to bother with the effort of being charming." She blushed at all her recent memories of Darcy's solicitous care. "At first." She was pleased to see a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks.

"Very well. It is not a very gentlemanly pursuit but it pleased my mother at the time. She taught me a little on the pianoforte and for years I studied with masters on the violoncello." He blushed and ducked his head.

Elizabeth was extremely surprised. She knew he enjoyed listening to the pianoforte and recalled him listing concerts and operas as some of the activities he usually enjoyed when in Town, but that he played! And something as complex as the cello! Elizabeth's gaze averted to his hands. They were large but she noticed they were nimble and he moved them gracefully. The same large hands had held her own and brought her comfort with a gentle touch.

"Will you play for me sometime?" she asked softly.

Darcy looked up at her, only to notice how she watched his hands and smiled a little.

"I...I am not used to performing for others but if it would please you, I will." Truthfully only Georgiana and some staff knew he played still.

Suddenly inspired, he grasped Elizabeth's hand resting next to her tea-cup. It startled her but she did not try to remove it.

He asked, "Will you tell me what makes you happiest?"

Elizabeth gazed at him for a long moment, deciding what her answer would be. "It is hard to explain. Put simply, I am happiest when I am with those that I love and who love me."

At first Darcy was surprised at first but a moment later decided it was perfectly in her character. Of course Elizabeth would not list some material object or experience. He had expected her to mention a favourite path or activity, but not his Elizabeth.

"And you?"

Darcy thought over his answer. He traced his memory to find the happy moments in his life. Before Elizabeth's answer he might have answered he was happiest in perfect solitude, or with an amiable companion; perhaps in his library with a good book. Now he recognised those were simply times of contentment. Elizabeth brought happiness. Elizabeth was his joy.

"William?" Darcy had been silent for some time, making Elizabeth quite uneasy.

He still held her hand and squeezed it lightly. "You."

Elizabeth turned scarlet and looked away from his steady gaze. She soon rose and began to gather the dishes but Darcy stayed her arm.

"Elizabeth, I will not allow you to be a scullery maid."

"I cannot let them sit and ungraciously expect the maids to do them in the morning. When they went to bed their domain was spotless!"

Darcy gave her a penetrating look. Perhaps asking how to ensure her happiness was the wrong question to ask. "Will you tell me your greatest fears?"

Elizabeth gasped at the question but something in his eyes compelled her to answer honestly when she was prone to make a joke of it. "I fear becoming a disgrace. First as a Bennet, now as a Darcy, but mostly in my own eyes. I tease you about your fastidious standards, but the truth is they are no worse than I place on myself."

Darcy walked around the table to stand near her. She had lowered her head but he tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. "You could never be a disgrace. You are a well bred lady with grace, intelligence and kindness. These ridiculous expectations of accomplishments mean nothing. Is a wife more agreeable if she can argue with her husband in German? I would have you be happy, and be happy with yourself. If that means mud puddles and cooking lessons, then so be it, if only to see that joyous sparkle in your eyes. That will give me pleasure!

"Elizabeth, you are so unlike the women of the _ton_, the ladies you shall soon become acquainted with, and I do not ever want you to think you must become artificial like them."

Elizabeth was embarrassed by her confession but realized she had wanted to share such an intimate thought with her husband. She needed to feel his acceptance. As he began to speak she felt more self-assured than she had in months, since before his insult at the assembly. It seemed even after she claimed to have forgiven him and forgotten it, even after she accepted his proposal and his professions of admiration, she felt the hurt of his words because they had validated her own insecurity. Striking out in anger at him was easier than acknowledging she shared his opinion.

Now that she realized _his _words were not the true source of her pain, but _her _thoughts, she no longer needed his continual reassurance. She could not place her self-worth on his approval; it had to come from within. The knowledge that no one else could hurt her was powerful. She was indeed worthy of his love and admiration, but her worth was not contingent upon his regard.

She blinked back tears. "Thank you."

He pulled her into his embrace and she revelled in the new sensations of acceptance she felt. Somehow, Darcy saw the real her. He knew her in an intimate way no one else ever had. Jane or her aunt would tell her that her feelings of inadequacy were unnecessary, which in a bizarre fashion only reinforced the feeling. But Darcy did not try to denigrate her emotions. He allowed her to feel them because they were a part of her. He only asked if such thoughts made her happy. And now with his arms wrapped around her, she truly felt happiness.

She could not remain silent for long, however. Her courage always rose to every occasion. "And what is your greatest fear, William?" She attempted to suppress a great yawn, but was unsuccessful.

Darcy pressed a kiss into her hair and guided her back to her chair. "Rest yourself. I will write Mr. Scott a note of apology for our mess and then we must get you to bed."

Darcy left for his study to write the quick missive to the cook and when he returned Elizabeth was asleep in her chair. She barely roused and needed to be carried the final steps from the top of the stairs to her room, the laudanum still having an effect on her after her meal.

When he drew the counterpane over her, he leant down to kiss her forehead. "Sleep well, my love."

Elizabeth turned towards the warmth and murmured sleepily. "Stay, please. I know tonight is not...is not how it should have been but hold me, please?"

Darcy could not refuse her request. He lay next to her, face to face, in what he hoped would not turn into too tempting a position. Before drifting to sleep he acknowledged silently his greatest fear was not earning her regard.

He also acknowledged pride was most definitely coming before the fall, as only hours before he had told himself he could resist the temptation of his lovely wife for the duration of her pregnancy and had used the example of his previous restraint as proof. But it was all for naught, because his restraint always shattered near her and it was only his foolish pride that thought otherwise. But maybe if his resolve came out of concern for her and the babe, and was not complicit in merely consulting his own desires, he could prove valiant.

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Ok, please don't kill me! We only have a few chapters left to go, so this is not carried out much longer.

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Notes:

Anne is suffering from what we would diagnose as Rheumatic Fever. The onset of her behaviour is a complication of it.

I have mentioned _Pamela_ before. The book inspired many parodies (or blatant plagiarism in some cases). Henry Fielding wrote several. One was called _Shamela_ in which the heroine is not virtuous or chaste but merely acting a part. Another was _Joseph Andrews_. He was the brother of _Pamela's_ heroine and amongst the trials he goes through before finally being united with his beloved, he continually resists the seduction of, I kid you not, Lady Booby. Fielding was mocking the moral hypocrisy in _Pamela_ but not seriously arguing for male chastity, although Elizabeth wishes he was.

_Tom Jones_ was another famous novel by Fielding. I am not attempting at all to summarize the entire plot, but only in relation to Darcy and Elizabeth's conversation. The protagonist is raised as a foundling for a wealthy gentleman's family. He has a short affair with the gamekeeper's daughter and possibly fathers her child. Later, he falls in love with his childhood friend and neighbour from a nearby estate, Sophia Western. Both families are against their marriage. Feeling the obstacles insurmountable, Tom flees the area and eventually meets Lady Bellaston and even when he is later reunited with Sophia, who has avoided an arranged marriage and she affirms her regard for him, Tom does not give up his affair with Lady Bellaston. Later he ends up in yet another woman's bed.

Clearly, Elizabeth finds this offensive, although in the end Tom marries Sophia and he is seemingly reformed by her virtuous ways. Richardson describes Tom's marriage to Sophia as thus: "Whatever in the nature of Jones had a tendency to vice, has been corrected by continual conversation with this good man, and by his union with the lovely and virtuous Sophia."

An 1800 pin-up of Sophia described her thusly:

"Adorned with all the charms in which Nature can array her, bedecked with beauty, youth, sprightliness, innocence, modesty and tenderness, breathing sweetness from her rosy lips and darting brightness from her sparkling eyes, the lovely Sophia comes!"

Wikipedia comments on the caption:

This depicts the heroine of the novel, but shows her in the latest fashions of 1800, rather than in the very different historically accurate hoop skirts of 1749 – it would have been extremely difficult to jump rope in the clothing styles (and high-heeled shoes) of 1749...  
The dishevelment of her clothes in the picture was not meant to contradict the word "modesty" in the caption, but was supposed to be understood as being the accidental and unintentional effect of her strenuous physical activity.

Darcy does not desire a wife like Sophia, but admits his sister is very much like her.

Additionally, Darcy casts Wickham in the role of Tom's enemies. One enemy he was raised with, who was believed to be the heir of the estate, but in fact Tom was, and cruel to Tom while gaining the affections of most of the characters and the other was a man who planned to rape Sophia and trap her into marriage in order to make Tom give her up. I've read places that JA did actually model Wickham and Darcy's relationship off of Tom Jones and his childhood friend, I'm not certain if that's in her notes somewhere or if it's critics seeing the similarities later but I found it out after I had already written this scene, so I can certainly see the similarities. But I don't think Elizabeth was meant to be as a Sophia stand-in and so neither does this Darcy want one.


	10. Chapter 10

Once again thanks for all the reviews, reads, follows and favorites! We're down to the last few chapters and it's hard for me to pick a favorite amongst them. No literary references this time, just some research I did on townhouses of the era and neighborhood. Well, let's see what those newlyweds are up to.

Thanks again to my awesome betas but any mistakes are my own and anything that sounds like JA is.

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**Ch.10**

Darcy awoke to find his arm draped over Elizabeth's side. She was cuddled close to him. Her dark eyelashes—the darkest he had ever seen—were striking against her pale, creamy skin. Her face was exquisite in repose. The neckline of her night shift had slipped low. It did not expose anymore of her bosom than an evening gown would, but he could view her unrepentantly without the enduring scrutiny of being in the company of others. She had a visible mole on her right breast, which he had long admired; from his new vantage point he discovered two fainter ones on her left one as well. He smiled; he was the only man in the world who would know of the existence of those other moles.

He repressed a sigh at her beauty. He became entranced with the rise and fall of her chest and resisted the urge to trace his finger along her neckline. That thought sent him evaluating where his hand clutched her trim waist. His eyes drifted over the length of her, settling where her hips gently flared wide—hips he wanted to grasp in the throes of passion, with their bodies entwined. He suddenly realized their lower legs were tangled; her night shift had ridden up in the night. Darcy wore breeches but not hose. Her silky smooth calves were against his, and he became aware he was in danger.

He did not know the time—it was barely light—but he needed to leave his wife's bed if he was to resist his desires. He reminded himself that all he needed was patience and perseverance. She was legally and irrevocably his—he had the rest of his life to worship her, body and soul. Taking a deep breath to cool his ardour lest he make his usual morning condition—which was making his breeches painfully tight—obvious to her warm, soft body nestled much too close.

Very slowly, Darcy extracted himself from the bed. He penned a quick note and left it on the pillow next to her. She rolled onto her back and Darcy placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. As he left he thought he heard a contented sigh.

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Elizabeth awoke alone and full of regret. She knew her wifely obligation to her husband, a duty she freely admitted to herself she was growing quite curious about. She was dismayed that she could not fulfil it. That he no longer was in her bed shamed her further. Did he think she was wanton, asking him to stay? Presumably she should not desire his nearness; that was why the refined in society had separate bedrooms. Only in the vulgar and crass lower classes did husbands and wives share beds.

Before this particular morning Elizabeth had put little stock in such a notion. She was well aware society might say one thing, such as dictating separate bedrooms, but what happened in private moments could be quite another thing. It was all a matter of discretion. She might privately read _Tom Jones,_ but would never mention it in a drawing-room. If a husband and wife felt affection for each other, why must they separate? Who would ever know? Yet, if there truly was no problem with husbands and wives sharing a bed, why was_ her_ husband absent?

She had no idea what to do next. She had been too ill yesterday for a tour of the house. Should she prepare for her day and ask a servant to request her husband escort her to breakfast? Should she wait for his arrival? Should she descend the stairs on her own and hope to find the correct room? She laughed as she accurately recalled the location of the kitchen but not the dining-parlour! At last her eyes espied a note on the pillow next to hers, written in a masculine hand.

_Loveliest Elizabeth,_

_You can have no idea how utterly enchanting you look as you sleep in what I hope will become __our__ bed. Waking with you in my arms was a delight I have never known, but hope always to repeat._

_I awoke early and chose to let you rest. I will be in my study attending to business, but please have a servant inform me when you are prepared for the day and I will escort you to breakfast. _

_Yours,_

_W_

Elizabeth smiled. She should have trusted her instincts. Her husband, who undoubtedly had great affection for her and even called it love—although it appeared he did not mean to say so—stated he would not regret sharing her bed. She fingered his words on the paper. It was a tight, clear, and strong script, which perfectly reflected the character of the man who wrote it. He left it on _his _pillow, still carrying his scent, in place of himself. She blushed to think he had observed her as she slept but hoped to return the favour on the morrow.

As she rose she was pleased to feel little of the discomfort from the day before. She pulled the cord to call her maid. She realized she had stained her night shift and checked the bed linens. She saw a stain there too, just as her maid arrived.

"Good morning, Mrs. Darcy." The maid curtsied.

"Good morning. I am sorry I do not recall your name. The laudanum has left some portions of yesterday cloudy." Elizabeth blushed, she hated to think she had made a poor impression on her first day as mistress.

"Quite understandable, ma'am. My name is Sally."

"Sally, do you have any idea how long Mr. Darcy has been awake?"

"I believe he had some coffee in the library above an hour ago."

"Indeed! Then let us begin the day. I would like a bath and you will see the bed linens need changing as well. I think my blue muslin frock will serve nicely this morning."

"Yes, ma'am. The bath water will be up soon. Mrs. Sparks believed you would like one. Would you care for some tea as you wait?"

"Oh, no. I prefer a simple toilette. I believe we can have me ready for breakfast in half an hour after the water arrives. Would you ask a footman to inform Mr. Darcy?"

"Certainly." The maid curtsied and left to perform her tasks.

Elizabeth began to unplait her hair and pulled it into a simple bun for her bath. She wandered into her ample dressing room and surveyed her clothing. She knew she must go shopping but knew she would not have time before leaving for Pemberley as they were scheduled to leave on the morrow. Certainly the winters there would be harsher than the winters of London or Hertfordshire, as Pemberley was nearer the mountains.

Undoubtedly her husband would press her to order her winter clothing in Town, but if they meant to spend several weeks at Pemberley she would rather have a modiste in Lambton make her clothes, at least what she would require while there. It would be prudent for the Darcy family to extend their custom to the local shops more often. _The Darcy family! _She smiled at the thought.

Sally returned and only a moment later two chambermaids brought the bath water. The new Mrs. Darcy and her servants proceeded with her preparations.

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Darcy was eager to see Elizabeth and misunderstood her instructions, arriving before she had finished her bath. He was embarrassed by his mistake as he opened the door scarcely after knocking, startling the maid who was changing the bed linen. He noticed a blood stain and blushed at the thought that the maid would assume its cause. His clever Elizabeth had thought of something he had not. It certainly would not do for the servants to think marriage unconsummated on their wedding night, especially if they hoped to pass off the baby as a product of their first days together as husband and wife.

He briefly nodded to the maid and hastily entered his own chamber. He found his room stifling and lonely. He had seldom seen the mistress' chamber before, having no need to go there. It certainly was a lighter atmosphere, although perhaps not quite to Elizabeth's tastes and definitely old-fashioned. It had not been redecorated since before his parents' wedding when his grandparents lived there. His room was not inadequate, but the other room was Elizabeth's. Her spirit and fragrance already filled the place.

After some time in his reverie he suddenly sensed her presence next to him and looked down to see her expressive eyes gazing at him.

"What are you thinking, dear?" she asked.

He smiled at the endearment. "I was realizing how lonely my life was." He raised her hands and kissed them. "But now I have my lovely wife and will never be lonely again." She smiled at him and he turned her hands over to kiss her palms. He was pleased to hear her breath catch.

"Come, let us have breakfast and then, if you feel up to it, I shall give you a tour of the house." He quirked a brow at her. "As you were so kind to point out yesterday, we live in a near hovel, so it should not take long."

"Fitzwilliam Darcy!" She swatted at him but he tucked her hand in his arm and led her downstairs.

During breakfast it was decided they would leave for Pemberley in three days, it would allow Elizabeth to rest more and him more time with her instead of focusing only on his affairs. Darcy regretted there would be little time to enjoy London with his bride, but he truly had matters to attend to at the estate.

He also disliked that Elizabeth would not have time to complete her trousseau but she could be measured and order a few gowns on the morrow. They would be ready when they returned to London. She could order more for the season then. Darcy was delighted with Elizabeth's excellent suggestion that she patronise a local shop in Lambton for her Derbyshire wardrobe. She was already thinking like a proper mistress of Pemberley.

Elizabeth would begin meeting with Mrs. Sparks to review the household accounts while Darcy went to assist Bingley in applying for the special licence and meeting with the solicitor. Elizabeth was surprised to hear the news, but even more excited to learn her dearest sister was only across Town. At the moment, she was not concerned with why the wedding was advanced. Elizabeth longed to invite the Gardiners, Jane, and Bingley to dinner before leaving for Pemberley. Darcy added the suggestion of an evening at the theatre, in the Darcy family box but Elizabeth declined.

Darcy led Elizabeth through the house. It was built in the 1720s and, unlike most homes in the neighbourhood, had seen few amendments. It was not enormous and instead featured three moderately sized rooms per floor. On the main floor was a small sitting room, the library and dining-parlour. The first floor had the largest drawing-room and the master's and mistress' chambers. The second floor held a nursery and two smaller bed chambers. The third floor was the servants' quarters.

Elizabeth was clearly quite delighted with the library and was endearingly curious about the nursery. They ended the tour by returning to the library.

"Dearest, I hate to leave you on our first day as newlyweds. If it were not to be of service to Bingley and your—_our—_sister nothing could tear me away."

Darcy felt something near distress as he attempted to leave. Elizabeth was no help, as she embraced him and planted tender kisses upon his face. Her lips held just a fraction of the passion he had experienced from her before, but he found them addicting. In hindsight, he could not say who deepened the kiss as he tried to depart, only that it was utterly intoxicating and he had no desire to ever quit this.

But he did.

His senses returned as he was bending her backwards, holding her with one arm, her hips flush against his own, while his other hand roamed her body, up from one hip, over her narrow waist and along her ribs, gently grazing the side of a breast. She gasped and unknowingly pushed her body forward. The intense desire awakening in him, surprisingly, brought to mind the reality of their situation—he was to leave and they were in the library.

He managed to straighten Elizabeth and hold her at arm's length, hoping he did not squeeze her too tightly as he attempted to control himself. He hung his head low, then dared to look at her from under his brows. The sight of her red, swollen lips nearly made him lose control again.

Between gasping breaths, Darcy explained, "My love, you really have no idea how you tempt me."

He grinned at her dazed face. He pulled her close and gently stroked her cheek before giving her a kiss on the forehead. He pulled back and allowed his hand to trail from her cheek down her arm to her hand, which he raised to kiss. Then he turned it over and placed another firmer kiss in her palm. She gasped in response, thrilling him.

"I will be back before dinner. I hope you have a pleasant day."

She gave him a weak smile, which was all he could manage, too. Taking a deep breath he forced himself to leave his house, his new wife, and enter his waiting carriage.

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After Elizabeth recovered from Darcy's farewell, she asked a maid to send for Mrs. Sparks. Choosing to work in the library because, aside from Darcy's desk, it had a large table, Elizabeth easily worked through the past several years of account books.

Mrs. Sparks checked her watch. "Goodness, Mrs. Darcy! The master told us you were clever but I never expected to be able to work through five years of accounts in such quick time."

"Oh, it is nothing. My mother was more than happy to turn over the responsibilities of the accounts when I first came out. We never had a house in Town or this income, so while the numbers are surprising, the way they are managed is not so different from an estate. I daresay not being consumed with Seasons in Town and the latest fashions was to my benefit. I can hardly imagine Mr. Darcy wanting a wife who could not run the household but could host a ball."

The housekeeper laughed. "You can see how little he has hosted events in the past; you are most assuredly correct."

Elizabeth sobered. "Actually, I would like to see the books from the former Mrs. Darcy. I realise it was years ago, and in a larger house, but Mr. Darcy and I have spoken about it and we do plan to host more events. My aunt lives in Town but anything she hosts would not compare to party in this neighbourhood."

"Certainly, ma'am. You can find all the old account ledgers on the same shelf as those you have reviewed. Would you like me to remain?"

"No, I only plan to use them as a rough outline, and I am certain you have other things to do. But if you could send luncheon in an hour I would be grateful."

"Yes, ma'am."

Elizabeth was so engrossed in her findings that she hardly noticed her luncheon arrive and barely touched it.

Another two hours passed when her husband's words interrupted her musings. "Elizabeth, are you well?"

She gasped, alarmed that he would find her looking at these particular accounts. She jumped from her chair and saw him eyeing the tray of food she had not eaten. "Oh, I was distracted."

His eyes alit on the books she had left opened, noting the colour of their bindings. "I see."

She saw his jaw began to tense.

He strode to shut the door. "Can you please explain why you are reviewing my personal accounts?"

He was quite angry. She feared he believed she had only been playing a part, and was a fortune hunter desperate for information on his wealth. Her heart squeezed at the thought of losing his affections.

Elizabeth stood still for a minute, her eyes drifted to the clock, and she realized she was late dressing for dinner. He arrived home later than expected. She looked at him carefully and despite his angry visage, there was a vulnerable expression of hurt, which it did not surprise her to see as she had some understanding of his feelings for her and given what she found in the books. He appeared exceptionally weary, as a day of business might do to a man and she wondered if he had taken any nourishment the entire day. She remembered how her Aunt Gardiner handled similar situations with her uncle.

"I will gladly explain my mistake, sir. But can I order tea for you while we talk? In the meantime allow me to suggest the lemon tarts; I believe you have a preference for them."

"Elizabeth, now is hardly the time to take tea!"

"Yes! But I believe you have not eaten all day, and as you see, neither have I. We might speak with more civility if our hunger is assuaged."

"We have dinner in an hour."

"Just a few restorative bites. It will go to waste otherwise, and I have spent the entire day reviewing the accounts; I know Darcy House is not frivolous."

"Very well." He was curt and dubious.

She called for tea and Darcy obliged her by eating the tarts. She could scarcely say for Darcy, but for herself she felt better after a few biscuits.

"There, now I believe we are in a position to speak rationally."

Darcy was resolutely silent.

"I spent several hours with Mrs. Sparks this morning going over the household accounts since you became master."

"You managed it all in one day?"

"Less than one day. You are such a creature of habit; hardly anything ever changed. You certainly do not need a wife to run your house. Mrs. Sparks is exceptionally efficient and organised.

"As she was leaving I asked where the older ledgers were. I wanted to leaf through those from your mother's time, to see the differences when the family entertained more. She never told me your personal accounts were on the same shelf. I grabbed several by accident."

Darcy made a gruff sigh.

"After skimming the years your mother was mistress, I saw you were correct, they did not entertain much. I was curious and sought the years when just youyou're your father lived here. I noticed that after you were around age fifteen or so, there were some odd entries. It seemed over the course of a few years several maids were let go of a sudden, and there was a strange notation next to a few of them." Elizabeth saw Darcy's jaw tighten further.

"I did not go looking for your personal accounts, sir, but the first page I opened to had the same symbol as in the house accounts and was for a shocking sum of nearly three thousand pounds. You can imagine what it would look like."

She paused a moment; it seemed Darcy was ready to speak at last, but he remained silent. "I noticed four or five of those entries and also noticed other large sums occasionally paid out." His eyebrows rose and she could tell he was surprised she was so diligent.

"Instead of a symbol next to them were the initials GW. Perhaps I am jumping to the wrong conclusions, but I think there is some kind of connection to paying this GW and compensating these maids for what clearly looks like trouble. The issue with the maids ceased when you became master but GW still sometimes received a payment, although not for the last several years. I cannot help but recall your reaction to a Mr. George Wickham in Meryton and he certainly knew you. Is he blackmailing you?"

Darcy let out bitter, hollow laughter. "If only!"

He thundered so loud it startled Elizabeth.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to frighten you. And forgive me for my reaction earlier. I do not trust easily, in part due to Wickham. I am so accustomed to mercenary women. I knew early in our acquaintance you were not but…"

"But...we are _still_ early in our acquaintance. I understand." He seemed relieved to hear it.

"I had not wanted to discuss this so soon but, as it happens, we have been invited to dinner with my aunt and uncle tomorrow and you will meet Georgiana there. I would need to speak of it soon, tonight or tomorrow at any rate."

He glanced at his watch. "We will be late for dinner if I speak further now. Will you allow me to explain it to you later this evening? We can have a tray brought to our chambers for supper."

Elizabeth startled a little at the thought. She had enjoyed his company the night before and his note said he wanted it to be _their _bed, but it was all still so new to her.

He saw her hesitance. "That is, if you do not feel uncomfortable…" He blushed and did not continue.

"No, it does not give me discomfort. I would like it."

Darcy was clearly relieved.

Deciding to forego changing to half dress dinner attire for only themselves, they proceeded to the dining-parlour and attempted to enjoy the dinner planned by Mrs. Sparks.

%%%%%

After their meal, Darcy and Elizabeth retired to the drawing-room. He asked for her to play and sing for him. She happily acquiesced. They also took turns reading passages of a riveting account of the recent battles on the Peninsula.

"One of my cousins, whom you will meet tomorrow, is a colonel and fought on the Peninsula last year."

Elizabeth gasped.

"He survived quite well; only a 'slight wound' to his right leg, as he would call it. You can barely notice its effects. He has been reassigned to the War Office now."

Darcy paused before deciding how to broach the topic. "I mention it because it touches on my explanation of George Wickham. I think we might retire for the night now." It was only nine o'clock but they were tired, and did not see the need to keep Town hours when it was just the two of them.

Elizabeth agreed.

"How long do you need to prepare?" His words made her blush.

"A quarter hour should suffice."

They walked to their dressing rooms, both concerned with the conversation to follow.

After closer to thirty minutes, Darcy and Elizabeth sat in their dressing gowns on a settee in her bedchamber. The house had no sitting room between the master and mistress' rooms. A tray of cold meats and breads were on a side table but would likely go untouched. Elizabeth could feel Darcy hated the very notion of this discussion and hoped to put him at ease.

"William, I hope I did not make you doubt my faith in your constancy or that I would think so little of your character that you were capable of harming maids, although you were quite young. I was confused and curious. My father indulged my curiosity and I ought to have known enough to stop once I realised I had _your_ accounts open. You need not explain anything to me. I am sorry I intruded on your privacy."

Darcy took her left hand in both of his. "All is well, Elizabeth. I was not angry, only surprised. Other than for a fleeting moment, I did not attribute any bad intentions to you. Of course, once you did explain it made me all the more agitated, but not at you."

"Have we learned to trust one another, then? Do we know enough of each other's dispositions not have moments of doubt again?"

Darcy gulped. He spoke truthfully earlier; trust did not come easily to him. But he also knew trust was paramount in love and however much he had his trust broken by others, he would have to offer it to Elizabeth to prove his devotion.

"Yes. I believe I know you well enough that you have no mercenary tendencies, neither would you intentionally wound me in any way. I cannot promise to always think rationally, but I will strive to remember it is _you _I am dealing with and not the others."

Elizabeth's heart tightened to hear her husband allude to any pain in his past. "I promise, I would never intentionally hurt you. I promise to try to think of how my words or actions might affect you, but I must know more about your history to understand. And I _do_ trust you. You are an honourable man. You are incapable of acting otherwise."

Darcy could only wish it was true. "Elizabeth, you know my sins quite well…"

She would not allow him to continue and laid her fingers on his lips. "None of that. Tell me what this George Wickham has done in your life."

Elizabeth listened with increasing anger as Darcy laid bare his dealings with George Wickham, son of his father's faithful steward. They once were very close friends but as they aged the younger Wickham's true character emerged. He never cared for anyone but himself and his own selfish desires. Darcy's father resolutely favoured him, spoiling him after a fashion, and Darcy soon felt obliged to take care of any scandal surrounding Wickham, lest it attach itself to the Darcy name—or worse, pain his father, who was ill for many years.

The situation with the maids was clear enough. Wickham seduced them—or so Elizabeth hoped. His methods were never discussed. The housekeeper begrudgingly settled matters with Fitzwilliam Darcy instead of the Master. Rather than use household funds, with his father possibly learning of the situation, Darcy used his own income. His allowance had always been too generous and well invested. He was not a spendthrift.

When Darcy was two and twenty his father died, leaving him Master. Wickham was given one thousand pounds and Darcy's father particularly recommended that his son assist Wickham in his profession. If Wickham took orders, a valuable living was to be given to him when it became vacant. Wickham soon decided against the church. He was properly compensated and gave up all claims to the living. This was to Darcy's relief, as Wickham was not suited to the clergy or any position of trust. Yet, when the living fell open three years later he applied to Darcy for it and was rejected.

Wickham became vindictive. Nearly six months ago Darcy's sister—more than ten years his junior—completed her education and was taken from her school. She was unknowingly placed in the care of a companion who had a prior acquaintance with Wickham.

"I have no doubt the entire thing was designedly done. Mrs. Younge recommended Georgiana visit Ramsgate, and Wickham followed. There he made love to my fifteen-year-old sister!" Darcy's face was pale and his fists clenched tight at his sides.

"She consented to an elopement. She would have had no benefit of a settlement, but Wickham would have been in complete control of her thirty thousand pound dowry. Or so he thought! I would have fought it every way imaginable." He nearly trembled in his fury.

"But they did not marry. You stopped it somehow." Elizabeth attempted to soothe Darcy and placed her hand on his thigh.

Elizabeth's confidence in Darcy's ability to protect his sister pained him and he tried to remove her hand but she entwined their fingers instead. "It was only by the merest chance, Elizabeth. I failed her. I shirked my obligation to my sister. If I had not arrived to surprise her they would have left the next day. I am thankful she acknowledged the whole of it to me.

"I wrote to Wickham, daring him to attempt to blackmail me with Georgiana's reputation. It appears I was effective but he could not resist taunting me. When I saw Wickham in the drawing-room at Longbourn, next to _you_, I vowed I would not allow him the chance to harm anyone I love again. I sent an express to my cousin, the one at the War Office, and Wickham was reassigned to a very strict Colonel. He will not have the time or means for his usual dissolute ways. Perhaps it will finally be an incentive for him to work hard. I only wish I could do more, truthfully I have little hopes of him reforming."

Elizabeth barely heard him, beyond that he loved her. Roused from her musings by his silence, she was drawn to his sad expression. She leaned into him and kissed him with abandon, in the way he taught her, the way he clearly enjoyed. Soon she was on her knees to reach him better, her hands tangling in his curls. Somehow she was then seated on his lap, her dressing gown open and his hand cupping her breast. She nearly screamed at the thrilling sensation when he made contact, but he pulled his hand away as though it was burned.

She opened her eyes to see him looking at her intently. Boldly she returned his hand. They were lost in each other for some minutes. Elizabeth became increasingly aware of a growing hardness under her thigh, when suddenly she was pushed back to her seat and Darcy was pacing before her.

When she was able to speak again she rose to embrace and beseech him. "Please, do not push me away."

"Elizabeth, I cannot control myself. I never can when I am with you. You rob me of my good sense. I will retire to my chambers tonight. I would never forgive myself if I hurt you. I have an obligation to protect you, even from myself. You will have to help me through the next few months."

Elizabeth was quite confused. "Months! My...my condition will be over in a matter of days."

"Days? I do not see how that is possible..."

"William, I rather think I would know a woman's condition better than you."

"Well, I suppose that is true..."

"Did the doctor tell you to abstain for months?"

"No, in fact he assured me that you would inform me when all was well."

"You see."

Darcy could make no sense of the conflicting information he believed he had. Was it possible they only needed to abstain at the early stages of pregnancy? Darcy could not abide his ignorance. He must find a book to enlighten him, or call on the physician. At the moment he could not muster more coherent thoughts as Elizabeth was kissing him again.

Elizabeth tugged on his hand. "Now come to _our _bed."

"I still think it best to go to my own room. Surely you must know most wives do not share their husband's beds."

"But I am not most wives. I am _your_ wife and a wife with deep affection for her husband."

"Deep affection?"

"Very deep."

If it was true, and he only needed to master himself for a few more days, matters were changed entirely! Darcy only grinned and allowed her to lead him to _their_ bed.

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Thanks for reading! I'll post again on Tuesday!


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks again for all the reads, follows, reviews and favorites. We're getting to the part of the story that has mature scenes. It's not graphic and I think you can tell when it's coming if you want to skip over it, but I thought I'd let you know. Thanks to my betas, any mistakes are my own and anything that sounds like JA is.

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**Ch. 11**

Elizabeth heard the maid stoking the fire and blushed. She was thankful Darcy had closed the bed curtains. Although the maid could not _see _them together she must certainly _know_. Elizabeth's mortification could not last long as she gazed affectionately at the man who still had her wrapped tightly against his chest. The sun was just rising and while it was still dark behind the bed curtains, she could see he had never looked so handsome or peaceful before.

He lay on his back with one arm holding Elizabeth tightly to his side, her head on his shoulder, hearing his heart-beat. Her hand draped lovingly on his chest. She fingered the dark hair there, pleased to have his shirt open, allowing her to touch his skin. Who knew a man looked this way under all those layers of clothes? She had seen statues and paintings, of course, but they were so very different than a man in the flesh. The acknowledgment of his bare skin reminded her that parts of her were exposed and nearly glued to his side.

After she coaxed Darcy to the bed, he resumed kissing and touching her in the same manner as on the sofa. Elizabeth soon learned to be grateful to whoever determined night shifts should have easy openings in the front. The thrill she felt through the thin fabric was exponentially intensified when Darcy's large, bare hand, and later mouth, reverently caressed her exposed skin.

In their few amorous encounters Darcy had always worn many layers. Even last night he wore his dressing gown but he took it off when he slipped beneath the counterpane the final time. Now, she was able to feel his flesh and the strength of his true form and combined with it her memories of the night before.

She could hardly explain her sensations but she was beginning to feel quite undone when Darcy began to slow the kisses and frenzied path his hands travelled from her face, along her waist and hips to her thighs and back to her breasts. As she gasped for breath Darcy quickly excused himself. He was only gone a few minutes and Elizabeth had only just recovered her steady breathing when he returned and drew her close, kissing her forehead. She could feel the tension in his body had gone.

He was stroking her hair and was nearly asleep when she spoke to him.

"William?"

"Hmmm?"

"Tell me a secret. Some foolishness from your youth."

He tensed just a little.

"That is...if it does not distress you. I would not want you to remember things involving..." She knew it was a pain to him if she even pronounced the name Wickham.

"No, no. Hmm... When I was ten I was riding with my cousin Richard at Pemberley, and we were not to go through a certain field. Richard was obedient but I taunted him. I do not know why; I was not usually the type to disobey. I suppose even then I was arrogant, for no one had explained why we should avoid that field and I thought better of my own opinion."

She smirked a little, easily believing him arrogant even as a child and Darcy teasingly pinched her arm.

"We had always ridden through it for it was the best stretch for racing—it had no trees and few rocks. Neither of us was thinking of what damage the storms might have done to the field. Our horses stumbled in the mud and overturned us."

At her gasp he hastily explained, "We were only bruised but our horses were severely injured. Richard's fared better than mine, he was a more experienced rider but mine went lame and had to be put down.

"We obviously had to confess everything to my father. Richard tried to take the blame, as he was older, but my father punished me more harshly. He said there was a difference between being the master and the responsibilities of a second son, as Richard is. I cannot always have my own way. My opinion may not always be sound, and my choices affect others—innocent others—and many will defer to me even when they know me to be wrong. Other than Richard and Father no one else aside from the stable hands knows of that foolishness. I was too proud to dare let someone think ill of me, even as a child."

Elizabeth was astonished at his opinion of the incident. She shook her head. He always held himself more accountable than others. His words broke through her thoughts, "And you?"

"When I was fifteen my mother had gone to Meryton and left Jane and me behind. Mrs. Long called and we sat with her. Jane rang for tea but Mrs. Long did not think it was arriving quickly enough, so I was to speak with the housekeeper. Instead, I went down to the kitchen and switched out the sugar for salt when the cook was not watching. Mrs. Long, among many other faults, was excessively stingy with sugar in her own house but as a visitor she took her tea with heaps and heaps of it. I believe I cured her of that!

"Mrs. Long eagerly retold the neighbourhood of her dreadful experience, and when Mamma heard of it she shouted at poor Cook. I had no choice but to explain my wrongdoing to Father, who waved me off. I think that was the first time I became conscious that my actions affect many others and to treat my servants with true respect and esteem. He never told my mother but I decided to apologize to Cook."

"Good Lord, Elizabeth," Darcy said in an awestruck tone.

"I know, it was so terrible of me!"

"No, it's rather amusing. I can imagine Mrs. Long's expression, even!" He chuckled. "I would ask why you were receiving callers at fifteen but I believe I can guess."

"Yes, Mamma had us all out that young. I know it sounds ridiculous. But she was always so worried about the entail. Her father died young and very suddenly."

"Dear, I am not judging your mother. As much as I jested about the six potential offers for you at Bingley's ball, I only just realized at any point in the last five years you might have married another. I might never have found you!" He squeezed her tightly.

Elizabeth let out a mirthless laugh. "There was hardly any chance of that. Jane was the one with all the suitors."

"No one wrote you verses?"

"Hardly!"

He hugged her tight again. "Then I shall be the first."

"Hmmm." She sighed.

"That was a heavy sigh, Mrs. Darcy."

"I am just happy."

She could feel Darcy's smile as he kissed her forehead. "I am glad."

They were silent for several minutes before he added, "And Elizabeth, I _would_ have found you. I was always meant to find you."

She replied so softly even she could barely hear it, "Yes, you were."

During her musings Elizabeth had not realized her hand continued to stroke over Darcy's chest and absently journeyed lower, lower, until she heard a harsh intake of breath.

She pulled her hand away and looked up to Darcy's face, discovering his eyes on her with such an intensity and longing she felt aflame. Fleetingly she acknowledged she felt no fear, only trust. Conveying with her eyes what her mouth could not say, she eagerly met Darcy's passionate kisses.

%%%%%

The sun was a little higher in the sky than it was the day before when Elizabeth and Darcy finally sat down for breakfast. Darcy pretended to ignore the smirks of the footmen as they brought the trays to the dining-parlour. He could hardly blame them and was in much too good of a mood to care.

"Elizabeth, I regret very much that I must say this, given our separation all day yesterday, but you know I needed to tend to some business matters in London and I truly need to spend some time at it today. Besides, I think your shopping excursion will be more enjoyable with better company. There would be time to send a note to the Gardiners and ask if your aunt and sister are at liberty to join you before we must depart for your appointment."

"Oh! I would enjoy that." She coloured a little. "Not that I think you would be disagreeable company for shopping but I think you would not enjoy it much."

He smiled a little. "Indeed. Perhaps while we wait to hear the response you might sit in the library with me?"

"It would be a pleasure."

Darcy could barely contain his chuckle. _It certainly was_.

"Will you tell me more about your relatives I will meet this afternoon?" she asked.

"Certainly. You have met my uncle already. Aunt Eleanor is much like you: clever, and kind. Their eldest son, Frederick, Viscount Arlington, is jovial and a great orator. The next son is Richard, a Colonel in His Majesty's regulars. He will flirt outrageously with you. He cannot resist a pretty face and enjoys provoking me in all things. Laura and her husband Stephen will be present. She is friendly and witty and Stephen is a very sensible man, although he has a peculiar fascination with all things nautical and might bore you on the subject. He and Richard get into rousing debates on their merits within the military. The youngest, John, may be absent as he may still be in court then but he is very affable.

"Georgiana will be there. You know the trials she has faced. I beg you do not perceive her shyness as arrogance. I believe you could be a true friend to her, help restore her confidence and open nature. You are very gifted with people, Elizabeth."

"Thank you. I would like that. I would like to have her as a friend, as well as a sister."

Darcy hoped he did not perceive a hint of nervousness in her voice. Perhaps she was concerned about being lonely coming from a house so full of family to just him and eventually his sister. _Until the baby comes,_ he reminded himself. He frequently needed to remind himself of the baby coming. They had not spoken of it since the night before their wedding but considered again, they would have more time to worry over preparations when they arrived at Pemberley. He suspected until she exhibited more signs of the pregnancy or clearly showed her condition he would have difficulty realising its effects on his life. Even when he believed her ill upon reaching the house he did not consider the pregnancy the cause until the doctor explained matters.

Their meal was soon complete and they settled in the library together, Darcy attending to business and Elizabeth reading. He smiled at the quiet contentment they shared, much like the day that changed his life forever, but without the agony of believing she would never be his. He smiled to himself and shook his head at the memory of the fool of a man that sat in the Netherfield library nearly three weeks ago, insisting he needed to conquer his infatuation with Elizabeth.

She occasionally hummed some tune and other than with a solitary remark or two they seemed almost accepting of the necessity to be employed in their separate matters. Darcy had not realized how much time had passed until there was a knock at the library door followed by a cry of alarm from Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth! What has happened?" He made for her side and was surprised to see at some point she stopped reading and had been sewing a garment.

"Your handkerchief!"

He obediently produced it and she dabbed at her finger with the edge. There was another knock at the door. Certain she was well, Darcy bade the servant enter. He arrived with a note from Gracechurch Street.

Darcy turned to Elizabeth just as she was removing the soiled handkerchief. The blot was not very large but she was frowning at it just the same. Darcy had some odd impression he had seen this before, and after a moment seized upon the notion that this must be how Elizabeth produced the blood for their linens the day before. The blots were similar in size.

"I am sorry. I am so clumsy!" She blushed and seemed unsure what to do with the soiled cloth.

"Give it to me. I will set it aside and let Jennings determine if it is worth laundering."

"Oh, I am certain it is ruined. I am no stranger to bloodied handkerchiefs, you see. I am terrible at embroidery and apparently am little better as a seamstress. Perhaps we might cleverly cut around it and make a little doll to send with the rest of the items."

"The rest of the items?"

"I noticed the Darcy family has a long history of being particularly charitable to the Foundling Hospital." She raised her chin a little. "I know it is quite the fashion to donate clothing and baskets to them as well as cash. Lucky for the children the great ladies care to think about them this season."

"Thank you for caring so much about our charitable interests." He paused for a moment, "Am I correct to assume you dislike the false charity some ladies bestow on the Hospital?"

"I would never criticise anyone for their services, but does not Scripture teach us that true charity comes from a cheerful heart? To give grudgingly or for the sake of fashion is not at all what God asks of us."

Darcy smiled and took her by the unwounded hand, leading her back to the sofa. After kissing her forehead he said, "You are already such a great mistress for our homes, Elizabeth. Now, it seems you have received your answer from Mrs. Gardiner and your sister."

Elizabeth eagerly took the note he extended to her. Upon reading the favourable reply the two readied for their departure. Elizabeth would meet her relatives at the modiste and Darcy would continue on to his errands.

Quickly completing his other business, Darcy arrived at Dr. Ashton's home in Hans Town and nervously waited to be shown into his private parlour. Absently, Darcy mused that the doctor's home was nearer the fashionable Hyde Park than his own.

"Mr. Darcy, is your wife feeling unwell again?" the gentlemanly doctor asked when Darcy was seated.

"No, and I am surprised you know of it already."

"Matthews sent a note to me. I like to keep up on my patients, even after an absence, and he knows you always send for me first."

Darcy averted his eyes a little. It rankled his morals that so few men were surprised or disgusted at the obvious truth that he had bedded a gentleman's daughter before marriage. Regardless of how many gentlemen visited the brothels, most did not trifle with gentlemen's daughters. He realised he ought to be thankful for the lack of condemnation, but he still could not entirely clear it with his own conscience and he hated the hypocrisy others applied to the situation. Gentlemen's daughters were not left alone because the men had respect for the ladies, but because of their rank, as though a servant or tradesman's daughter were less human.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I...uh...it seems I need some clarification on how to care for my wife." He loathed that he could not make himself speak plainly on the subject, but to do so was simply too vulgar. He excelled at forthright business conversation, skirting around societal niceties was another matter entirely.

"Care for her? She ought to be feeling quite well in a matter of days. This indisposition is entirely normal for ladies, and one, I might add, you ought to get used to." Darcy's relief must have shown, for Dr. Ashton chuckled a moment.

"I understand Matthews was called as soon as you arrived home from your wedding ceremony?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Darcy, you recall I was friends with your father?" Darcy nodded. "And while I know your uncle, the Earl, is very approachable, it is possible you may have reservations about discussing certain matters. As a long and happily married man may I give you some advice?"

"Certainly, sir."

"These times in a wife's life are brief compared to all that follows, although the timing is unfortunate, it is by no means alarming or unusual. I am certain she will welcome your attentions when all is well and it is quite possible you will not be faced with this concern again for many months."

"And you are certain I cannot harm her?"

"Harm? She might experience mild discomfort and pain."

Darcy furrowed his brows. He hated the idea of bringing her pain...again.

"Now come on, man! It cannot be helped. All ladies manage it quite well, indeed it is nothing compared to the bearing of children. You obviously care for her. Now where is your sense? If women were continually and severely harmed by the act, we would hardly have so many people about. Indeed, I believe some ladies even find pleasure in their husband's attentions!"

Darcy managed to chuckle a little at the logic of the doctor, _and I know I can bring her pleasure_. Standing, he stretched his hand out to the older gentleman. "Very well. Thank you for easing my mind. It was pleasant meeting with you again, Dr. Ashton, but I hope I will not require your services again for several months." So saying Darcy was able to return home with a happier mind, ready to prepare for their evening with his relations.

%%%%%

Darcy let out a frustrated sigh as he and Elizabeth climbed into their bed. They had just returned from their evening with Darcy's relatives. They were asked to stay for cards and supper and did not know other guests were invited as well.

"I am sorry you heard that, Elizabeth."

"_You _are not at fault."

"If I knew she was to be in attendance we would not have appeared tonight. What can my aunt and Arlington have been thinking?" Darcy's frustration was obvious.

"She is very beautiful and I understand she is very wealthy and her uncle is cousin to a duke. She seemed very accomplished."

"And ill-mannered combined with dull! Her wealth is no excuse for such behaviour."

"William…"

"I can only think she is entirely senseless or bitter. I never gave her any encouragement."

"I know…"

"I never encouraged any lady, never showed a preference. I only ever wanted you." He squeezed her tightly as they lay in bed together. Being in company of the "glamourous" Lady Alice Tiswell made Darcy all the more thankful he had Elizabeth in his arms.

"I know…"

"It is patently false."

Elizabeth arched her brow. "That you are besotted with me?"

Darcy chuckled despite himself and raised her hand to his lips. "Certainly you know that part is true by now."

"I do."

"You did not draw me in…"

"William!" He finally ceased talking long enough to look at his wife. She did not look distressed.

"I have no desire to speak of that woman, or any woman, while in our bed. Her words did not wound me, nor was I without protection."

"Oh really?"

"Your family trusts your decision but your behaviour towards me counts for far more, I think, and the whole world will soon see it."

"So you got along well with Aunt Eleanor and Laura? Not every woman in my family is like Aunt Catherine. Did Georgiana speak to you?"

Elizabeth smiled at Darcy's endearing nervousness and decided to ease his nerves, however much she would rather have his attention on other matters. "Your sister was very agreeable, only a little quiet. I believe I will soon love her as much as my own sisters. I do like your aunt and cousin very much. They are such clever and kind ladies. I would say Lady Alice may disagree but I think she did not quite understand their remarks on the matter. I truly do not believe she meant malicious intent with her remark."

"Elizabeth."

"It is true! Did you not notice how much she sounded like Lydia?"

Darcy stared at her in disbelief. He was simply too used to being preyed upon.

Elizabeth spoke in a tone that sounded eerily similar to Lady Alice Tiswell, and indeed did sound like Lydia. "'Good Lord, Mrs. Darcy! He's just a besotted fool, anyone can see you didn't need to draw him in!'" She clutched her hands to her chest as though afflicted with a nervous flutter.

Darcy cringed at Elizabeth's performance. "Shall you take to the stage now, madam?"

"Certainly not! Now, no more of this. The Gardiners, Jane and Mr. Bingley dine with us tomorrow."

"Yes. What else would you care to do? It is not usually my practice to attend the theatre on a Sunday, but would you enjoy it?"

Elizabeth smiled indulgently. "No. We will be departing for Pemberley on Monday and be there only a week before returning for Jane and Bingley's wedding. Then we will quickly return to Pemberley for the Holidays. A quiet dinner with my family and your friend is quite enough."

"Would you like to walk in one of the parks in the afternoon?"

"That sounds lovely!"

Darcy smiled broadly at her enthusiasm and pulled her a little closer. After kissing her cheeks, nose, forehead, eyes, and finally bestowing a tender kiss on her lips he repeated her word, "Lovely."

Elizabeth smiled and sighed.

"Happy again, Mrs. Darcy?"

Smirking, she nodded her head. "Very."

Her face took on a look which foretold teasing. Darcy quirked an eyebrow. "Out with it."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I know that look. That delightfully, teasing look that…"

"That drew you in?"

Kissing just below her ear, Darcy huskily replied, "That always tempts me."

"That made you a besotted fool?"

Drawing his lips down Elizabeth's neck, Darcy spoke between kisses. "I am no match for your wit tonight but will gladly be victim to your teasing. I am almost certain it is my obligation. However, I can hardly read your mind."

Elizabeth replied with a languid half-smile, "I was only thinking how very much I would like to make you happy again, Will…"

Elizabeth's words died on her mouth as Darcy was only too willing to prove how besotted he truly was.

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Two more chapters to finish things off! Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

This is probably my favorite chapter, sorry to get a bit nerdy with you at the end, but I had to vent about a ridiculous book I had to read for grad school. Many thanks to my betas but any mistakes are my own and anything that sounds like JA is.

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**Ch. 12**

"We will be returning to London after Twelfth Night and will host you properly then. I trust you will not begrudge us our informal meal this afternoon. Mrs. Thomas was aghast, but I insisted we could host company and still allow the servants their evening off."

"Of course, Lizzy!" Mrs. Gardiner reassured her niece as she took in the drawing room of Darcy House.

"It is not ostentatious, but it is fine and elegantly furnished. There is something about it that feels comfortable, is there not?" Elizabeth mused to her aunt, feeling an unaccountable pride in the Darcy legacy.

Knowing the splendour of Pemberley, Mrs. Gardiner had expressed a feeling of surprise with Darcy's London house. "You are perfectly correct, dear, this is a pleasant home."

"When his mother lived, they leased a larger house."

"Yes, it would be difficult to host the _ton's_ greatest fetes in here."

Elizabeth desired to correct her aunt's impressions. Elizabeth's theories might be partially unsubstantiated, but she could not imagine her husband growing into the man he was if he was raised to value the elevation of pride and conceit just for the cause of rank.

"Oh, but Mrs. Darcy did not entertain much. She was frequently ill. My husband's grandfather took the lease on the larger house when they had several children, although this one came with his wife's dowry. When my husband's parents married they took the larger house. His aunts had married and, sadly, no uncles survived.

"I think...I think they stayed in the larger house because they hoped for more children. Mrs. Darcy was also a gifted musician and the older Mr. Darcy an avid reader. Those rooms would have been larger. They spent a good deal of time in Town and tutored their son at home. London gave them greater access to the masters.

"But I think it was also to have better access to the physicians for Mrs. Darcy and provide her with more comforts." When Elizabeth looked at the account books of Darcy's mother's era she noticed the frequent physician visits and wondered if they were related to the large age difference between her husband and his sister.

"Have you talked with your husband about this?"

"No. I do not think he would recall very well; he has a child's memories of his parents together. However, if old Mr. Darcy was anything like his son, then he would dote on his wife."

Elizabeth already knew her husband preferred his country estate to London, and suspected his father shared the trait. She likewise believed the Darcy men would do anything for their ladies. Her husband certainly did for her and Georgiana.

Mrs. Gardiner smiled broadly. "So you are happy then, dear?"

Elizabeth beamed. "Supremely happy!"

Glancing at her sister and Bingley talking on the other sofa, Elizabeth discreetly asked her aunt, "Why was the wedding date moved? Jane never spoke a word to me about it. She has been very sly."

Mrs. Gardiner took a lengthy pause. "You have confessed to allowing Mr. Darcy some liberties before your marriage which made you feel obligated to him." Elizabeth blushed but her aunt continued. "Let me just say that Jane's choices on the wedding date are decidedly less flexible than yours were."

Elizabeth gasped. "No, I cannot believe it! She would have to be entirely out of her senses!"

Mrs. Gardiner gave a little smile. "My dear, when you are in love it can be very difficult to be on your guard and very easy to lose your sense. I n the end it is not the desire or accepting of the actions that is inappropriate, only the timing. Do not be too harsh on her. We all know Jane feels things fervently, even if she does not display them well. That works for both love and shame."

Elizabeth had no time to reply, for a footman entered and nodded at her. She stood and addressed the occupants. "I believe the carriage is ready. Let us enjoy our walk before dinner."

Once at the park, Elizabeth was pleased the grouping was naturally ordered so she walked privately with Jane. Darcy walked with Mrs. Gardiner and they talked of the Lambton neighbourhood while Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bingley conversed on politics.

"Jane," Elizabeth hesitantly began after some silence, "will you speak to me about why the wedding date was moved?"

Blushing furiously red, Jane slowly nodded her head.

"I cannot say I understand how you allowed this to happen but I do not wish to condemn you." Jane looked at her sister in disbelief, so Elizabeth felt compelled to continue. "Truly, I only mean to ask how you feel about… everything."

Jane shook her head. "You say you cannot understand? I do not believe it! I shall not defend myself. We ought not to have given into our temptation and I am ashamed of my actions, but it is difficult to think rationally when so violently in love. I confess, at the moment I only felt trust and affection for the man I would soon marry and not a hint of hesitancy or shame.

"We all know Mr. Darcy loves you very much and you admitted to accepting his proposal because you enjoyed his attentions. I am uncertain I understood how you could allow his liberties at the time but I truly believe neither you, nor I, would forsake our good upbringing if we were not in love and knew the men to be honourable. Surely you must feel the truth of it now after all you have shared as a married couple."

Elizabeth blinked back her surprise at her sister's words, unable to respond. They were soon called forward to meet with the rest of their group to return to the house.

Dinner was a casual affair prepared in the morning by the dutiful staff. The sexes did not separate afterwards. Since Darcy and Elizabeth needed to awaken early the next morning, the guests did not stay long. Still insisting on allowing the servants their day of rest, Elizabeth prepared the tea in the evening once she and Darcy were alone. They sat on the sofa in Elizabeth's bedchamber.

"When we return in January we ought to meet with a designer to refresh your rooms," Darcy proposed.

"They do not need much."

Darcy levelled Elizabeth a look and she gave a conciliatory sigh. "Very well."

"I may have a suggestion or two."

"Is that so?" She pursed her lips to keep from laughing at the image of Darcy being a man of fashion.

"Would you like a private sitting room?"

"How could we ever manage that? William, it is senseless to expand the house or lease a larger one for the sake of one room. We have a sofa in here and a bookcase. It is quite sufficient."

"I disagree. I am a large man and we have not the space for a more substantial sofa in this room. We could have a writing desk for your use and take our morning tea and coffee there together."

Elizabeth chewed her bottom lip. "I suppose no one need ever know. We would never give visitors a tour of our private rooms."

Darcy chuckled.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Oh, I was only thinking that if, somehow, they did, perhaps I could redeem myself and not be the only 'besotted fool' in our marriage."

Elizabeth scoffed. "I am far too sensible to ever be mistaken for a fool, William."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

Darcy grinned at her silly obstinacy. "But I am not?"

"That is not for me to say. If you are a fool for being besotted with me _I _would certainly be the last to confess it."

"And how might we measure what makes one a besotted fool?"

Elizabeth's eyes sparkled as she teased him. "First we must consider the besotted quality."

"Well, only a besotted man would do this." He leaned in as if to kiss her, as she expected, and instead he tickled her.

"William!" she squealed but he was relentless for several more minutes.

He finally ceased and she recovered her breath. "I cannot think how that undignified _display_ was a measure of your devotion!" she said with feigned indignation.

"Only a besotted man would risk your ire to see your eyes sparkle and hear your laughter."

She pursed her lips to quell her smile. "Perhaps. You may also be proving to be a fool to risk my anger."

"I am not afraid of you."

"Hmm...yet more proof of your foolish ways."

"What will it take to convince you of my sense, madam?"

"Consider why you married me, sir, and you will see I am correct."

"Never." He took her hands and kissed them. "It was only sensible to marry the most beautiful woman of my acquaintance."

He turned her hands over and slowly kissed one palm and then the other, noticing the small and clearly recent scar on her left hand. "Surely it was clever of me to marry the kindest and most intelligent woman I know."

He kissed her wrist. "And I was as wise as Solomon to marry the only woman to drive me to distraction and beyond the brink of temptation." He punctuated this line with a kiss to her collarbone.

Despite her quickening pulse, Elizabeth continued to argue. "Very well, sir. You have demonstrated you are a besotted _and_ sensible man but you claimed I was besotted as well."

Kissing up her throat, he whispered in her ear. "Are you happy, Elizabeth?"

When his warm breath brushed over her ears she could only let out a whimper.

He kissed across her face and whispered in the other ear. "Do I make you happy, Elizabeth?"

Struggling for coherent thought, Elizabeth pulled back to look him in the eye. "You make me very happy, William."

Elizabeth fell asleep with the words she had explained to Darcy mere days ago resounding in her head. _I am happiest when I am with those that love me and that I love._ _I am falling in love with Fitzwilliam Darcy_.

_%%%%%_

Hearing Jennings in his room next door, in a discreet attempt to wake them, Darcy began to kiss Elizabeth until she roused.

"Dearest, it is time for us to depart."

"Hmmm….too tired, too early," Elizabeth mumbled and pressed closer to Darcy's side.

He smiled as he knew the source of her exhaustion. They had kept themselves well occupied for part of the night in the few intimacies they allowed themselves, but they still had to rise at dawn so they could make the most of the day for their travels.

"You can rest in the carriage." When she continued to not awaken fully he got out of bed and stripped it of its counterpane.

Gasping, Elizabeth sat up. Darcy smirked at the sight. "We must get up, dear." Hearing a knock on the door he brought Elizabeth her dressing gown. "Here is your tea and our baths will soon be ready."

Elizabeth mumbled something rather ungrateful and adjusted her shift and donned the robe. "I can always tickle you, Elizabeth." Those words finally got her moving to the sofa as Darcy opened the door to retrieve their tea.

An hour later they were seated in carriage and headed for Pemberley. Darcy wrapped his arm around Elizabeth as she rested her head on his shoulder and slumbered.

When she awoke they took turns reading aloud. Elizabeth was pressed close to his side, cuddling his arm. A carriage ride had never been so pleasant before. Darcy released a contented sigh.

"That was a heavy sigh, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said using the same words as he had a few days ago.

"I am just happy," said he using her words from the same conversation.

He was already watching the expression on her face, pleased to see her joy at his declaration of happiness. He leant to her with a tender kiss. Although he lingered, both were sensibly aware of their position in a carriage and attempting to control their passion.

"Elizabeth, I was uncertain when to say this but I can go no longer without telling you my heart. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I..."

Elizabeth placed her fingers on his lips and he ceased talking.

_Foolish man! She does not want your sentiments. She can never forgive you for your ungentlemanly actions. _

"Darling, please do not say it yet. I know, I do know, and I welcome your affection. It is an honour. But please, say no more for now. Soon, I think I will know..."

"I do not wish for you to feel obligated to return sentiments you do not feel."

"But I _do_ feel! I feel so much! I think my heart will burst. I only wish to _know. _I must make sense of this rationally but I do feel..."

It was many minutes before Darcy allowed her to speak again. Grinning to himself as she read from their book, he allowed he truly was a besotted fool. His greatest wishes would soon be answered.

Almost from first sight his baser instincts acknowledged his attraction to Elizabeth, mortified as he was to realize his ungentlemanly thoughts. Very soon afterwards he believed his greatest wish was simply to marry her and leave his family obligations of a splendid match behind. Now he was married to her. He knew it was a splendid match, in every way important to him and soon they would consummate the marriage, yet even that was not enough.

Nothing could ever be enough until he earned her love, freely given. Certainly most men would think him foolish, but now more than ever he knew what a profound statement of trust it would be to have Elizabeth bestow upon him her whole heart. He might be a fool, but he would walk the world over to win that love.

He truly believed what seemed nearly impossible only a few weeks before. Elizabeth might love him, and he determined, no matter what they were soon able to physically express, he would wait until she could give him her heart as well as her body, even though she had conceded that before.

After passing several more hours in a combination of reading, rousing debates, teases, a brief nap, and both playful and sensual kisses they finally arrived at the inn for the night.

%%%%%

Darcy had, naturally, secured the largest and most comfortable rooms. He was well known at this inn, one of his usual stops on his journeys between London and Pemberley. The staff was delighted to meet the new Mrs. Darcy. Elizabeth was slightly uncomfortable with all the attention and deference, and certainly rolled her eyes at Darcy taking such large connecting rooms when they both knew only one was needed. Of course they would always rent two for appearances, but they did not need to be quite so large if one was to remain empty and it was not as though she desired distance from her husband in any room.

Elizabeth picked at her food and was more quiet than usual. Darcy perceived the change and looked at her with concern.

"We should go directly to sleep as we have another early start tomorrow and you seem rather exhausted from the long day," Darcy said when they finally retired for the night.

Elizabeth gulped. "I am not exhausted. I am perfectly well."

Darcy seemed puzzled. "Very well, would you like to read more of the book we were reading in the carriage?"

Elizabeth nervously walked to the bed and removed her robe. "No, I have had enough reading for the day."

Darcy followed her. "Were you of a mind to discuss something?"

Elizabeth shook her head. She took in a deep breath to gather her courage. "No, I have a much better use for those lips." She touched the corner of his mouth with a fingertip.

Darcy grinned and eagerly obliged. He could not explain it, but something seemed different about kissing Elizabeth now. She had always passionately responded to him but tonight it felt as though she were truly encouraging more, almost seductive in making him lose all rational thought.

His hand touched the silky smooth skin of her thigh, not wondering at all how it made it there or exposed the skin, when she gasped into his mouth, breaking his spell.

"Have I hurt you? Please forgive me…" His eyes widened in the dark when he realised just how high on her leg his hand was. Her shift was bunched above her hips. He wrenched his hand away, conflicted between unspoken feelings of intense desire and anger at his lack of control.

"No, William I am perfectly well. _Entirely_ well." She seemed to be stressing her words but Darcy could not make out her meaning. Too much thought was impossible at the moment.

Willing his body to behave, he kissed her forehead. "I am glad to hear it, but I do think we should sleep now. Despite what you have said you must be uncomfortable after a day of riding."

"I have been well _all day_. Better than I have been _in nearly a week_."

"Elizabeth…" Darcy began uncertainly. "Do you mean…"

She did not allow him to continue speaking and instead pulled his face towards hers.

From that moment on, neither of them were able gather their wits. The feelings evoked by their kisses and caresses, undoubtedly increased due to their restraint during the day, were nearly beyond expression.

There was one commonly voiced desire, however. _More._ Elizabeth pleaded for more and Darcy's body demanded it as well.

When he had stroked nearly every part of her, he instinctively returned to the location which could satisfy their yearnings.

Elizabeth was not content to be idle and ran her hands over him. Sometimes her touch was light, other times fierce as she gripped him to her. She held his face to her breast as his fingers intently explored.

"William…" Elizabeth managed to gasp. "William, I know there is more. Make me your wife." Without conscious thought he was soon cradled between her legs and Elizabeth unknowingly urged him on when she rocked her hips forward in response to his weight.

Some greater sense or reason in Darcy forced his mind to focus. "Not yet. Soon, my dear. Soon...when you _know_."

Before Elizabeth could argue or question, he increased his ministrations and no more sensible words could be said. Elizabeth seemed to have realised if she could not speak, she could touch and caress as well.

After some minutes the final words of the night were rasped out in a combined, "God, William!" and "Oh, Lord! Lizzy!"

As Darcy held her in his arms in the night he realised the only thing he would have liked more was if they had entirely shed their clothes. Had there been more light, he could have seen Elizabeth's eyes when she took her pleasure.

Elizabeth's mind was beyond thought entirely.

%%%%%

The second day of travelling was very similar to the first, with perhaps more kisses and embracing and less reading. They did manage to enjoy a debate.

"I find his argument lacks logic. He cannot argue both that the Romans were too coddled in luxury _and _that Christianity placed too much focus on life after death. You cannot both enjoy your worldly goods and say they do not matter," Elizabeth argued. They had been reading _The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_ by Edward Gibbon and both were quite familiar with his deductions.

"Furthermore," continued Elizabeth, "the very era in history he loathes proves Christianity as very combative. The Crusades were six hundred years before Francis Bacon, John Locke, and Voltaire, and nearly five hundred years before peace dissenters like the Quakers. And as an Englishman _he _should know our bloody history over religion!"

"But surely you must agree they had a duty to maintain the government and military instead of hiring others to do so."

"Yes, we see throughout history what happens when the very rich forget their obligations to civic duty and think only of themselves. But Gibbon also makes it sound as though the Barbarians could never do justice to Rome simply because of the location of their birth."

"Would you trust a Frenchman to lead England to victory?" The question silenced Elizabeth for a moment and Darcy almost chuckled.

"No, but perhaps a leader from the colonies could. Or someone from a lesser rank, Lord Nelson earned his position and was only the son of a poor vicar. Ability to lead is not a matter of birth. Clearly we have seen with the recent revolutions that lower ranks can throw off an aristocracy. Indeed, there seems to be a kind of warfare between the two."

Darcy looked at Elizabeth sceptically. "Perhaps with the French, but that was not the complaint of the Americans."

"In a way, it was. Do they not argue for certain rights? That all men are created equal?"

"Poverty and inequality will always exist, Elizabeth."

"Yes, it certainly will. But my point is that if the rich landlords and Senators of Rome were truly concerned not only about the good of Rome, but for the good of themselves, they would have perceived the necessity to treat those inferior to them with kindness and generosity."

"Could we not agree with Gibbon that the Roman Empire grew too large? It took on too many responsibilities? Is this not what befell France? What threatens England?"

"A wise thing for you to remember all around."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"I have heard testimony that you are the best landlord and master, and now I have seen it with my own eyes, but you take on too much responsibility. You have cleaned up any of Wickham's unpleasantness for most of his life, blame yourself for Georgiana's near elopement, helped Bingley's wedding affairs as though it were your fault when they...well, they certainly made their own decisions.

"On our wedding day you assured me you would not be squandering our children's monetary inheritance on another family. And you confessed to feeling as though your father's affection and time were stolen from you by Wickham. Do be careful to not overextend yourself so that we, your first responsibilities, feel burdensome."

Darcy looked at her with concern. "Have I neglected you? I will have matters to attend at Pemberley but it should not take the whole of the day like it did when I met with Bingley or was settling things in London."

She waved her hand in dismissal. "No, no, you are very attentive to my needs. I know you take your duties and obligations very seriously, but perhaps some of your energy is misplaced. I will not let you shut yourself away. I do not want a separate life from you. I desire your company during the day as well as at night."

"Is that so?" He smiled and began to kiss her.

"Yes," she said firmly, not at all sure they were still speaking of the same thing.

"You _desire_ me _day _and night?"

A reply proved unnecessary.

* * *

Any final guesses on how it all comes out? I'll post the final chapter on Tuesday.


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for all the reviews, reads and follows. Here is the conclusion, I hope everyone likes it. Thanks again to my wonderful betas Jim, Rosie J., Sarah, Candice and Linda B. Any mistakes are my own and anything that sounds like JA.

* * *

**Ch. 13**

Elizabeth smiled as she woke to the sounds of her maid leaving a breakfast tray. Her husband held her tightly. They lay on their sides with her back against his chest, her head resting on one arm while the other wrapped across her waist and held a breast. Nestling in closer she felt his arousal and smiled again. Their increasing physical intimacy was bringing out a playful side of him, and all Elizabeth could think of now was his promise for _more, soon_.

She smirked when she thought of how she would awaken him if they were alone and at their leisure. Instead she rolled over to face him and gently stretched.

"William, dear." He was beginning to rouse and she chose to kiss his face in an effort to wake him further. His whiskers had grown overnight and she secretly loved the look and rough feel of it.

His arms tightened around her and he opened his eyes, which displayed a burning intensity. "I will never let you go."

"I am afraid you must. We need to depart."

"No, we will remain here forever." He nestled her head to his chest.

"I confess that disappointments me. I had understood Pemberley to be a very grand estate with many rooms with large furnishings. And after so many years living with half a dozen other people I was looking forward to a great deal of _privacy_."

Darcy grinned and tapped her nose. "Temptress! Very well, if we leave soon we should arrive before dinner."

Darcy excused himself to the other room for a moment while Elizabeth began to make up her tea and his coffee. He returned and smiled at her thoughtfulness.

He took a sip, clearly enjoying it. "Mmmm...the way I love it." He kissed her head and carried his cup to a window to look out at the condition of the roads and Elizabeth smiled after the man she loved.

The thought was so natural to her for once she did not bother to question it. Elizabeth's smile grew. When Darcy turned to face her again her heart felt so full she stood to walk to his side and embraced him, which he happily accepted.

After weeks of questions and worries, she finally had her answer. She allowed and welcomed Darcy's attentions because she loved him. The joy she felt at admitting it to herself was more than she ever dared hope to feel. She had once worried about their happiness in marriage. She worried they were drawn together by little more than passion, but now she was certain they would be truly happy.

Once they were in the carriage, however, she feigned sleep to consider how she fell in love with him so unawares. She at last thought of her sister's words to her. Jane had no way of knowing their marriage was not consummated, but Elizabeth had shared much with Darcy in their first few days of matrimony. They discussed their greatest fears, secrets from childhood, what they desired in their marriage, hidden accomplishments and so much more. Although still lacking in the final physical expression of intimacy, Elizabeth felt closer to Darcy than any other person she had known. And in return she felt cherished, accepted, and valued.

Jane declared she felt only trust and affection for Bingley when they anticipated their vows, never fear, and Elizabeth realized that had always been the case for her with Darcy. More than all this, she now understood him to be the very best of men.

_Even when I felt an obligation to dislike him, something greater in me had the sense to love him and trust he returned it. _

Elizabeth hardly knew how to express her new certainty in her affections to Darcy but knew she must soon.

%%%%%%%%%%%%

Darcy and Elizabeth passed the remainder of the day in various levels of excitement. Elizabeth viewed the countryside of her new home county with greedy eyes. As they entered the Peak District, Elizabeth realized how different Derbyshire was from Hertfordshire! And how different this man was from any other she had known. As she determined she could easily enjoy the rest of her life exploring Derbyshire, she also realized how much she looked forward to a future learning more about her husband.

Elizabeth's delight and approval of the Pemberley grounds and house was evident and nothing could bring Darcy more happiness. He proposed a nap or walk about the grounds or even a tour of the house but Elizabeth desired only a quick bath and then to continue with their dinner plans. Darcy could hardly hide that his thoughts concluded they might end the night earlier than usual.

Elizabeth observed that Pemberley and its grounds were exquisite and the perfect reflection of the character of its master. Neither ostentatious nor uselessly fine, there was a welcoming elegance about it. The housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, was very kind but clearly just as efficient as Mrs. Sparks. In short order Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were bathed and back downstairs for an enticing dinner. Afterwards they adjourned to the music room.

"Will you play for me?" Elizabeth asked with such affection in her eyes Darcy could not refuse.

He had not played in quite a while and the instrument took some time to tune. She watched his large frame embrace the curves of the instrument, somehow making it seem small in his arms. He gently, lovingly tuned it, returning again and again to the same spots, until it responded just as he wished. When at last the violoncello was ready, Darcy pulled it in a little closer and nestled his chin close to its long neck. As he gently swept the bow across the strings, sweet music filled the room, and Elizabeth trembled.

Darcy played quite well for seldom practicing. Although it was simple tune, he conveyed great emotion in it, as though part of his essence was being imprinted on Elizabeth's heart. She was entirely entranced by his fingers; listening to him and seeing his hands caress the instrument was a sensual experience and left her feeling heady. For all that their marriage remained unconsummated, she had memories enough of his hands, strong and gentle, coaxing something sweet and beautiful from her, as though she were his well-loved instrument.

She did not notice when he ceased to play, her body too distracted with other sensations for her hearing to be on alert. She startled when his warm breath grazed her ear.

"Play for me, Lizzy?" She blushed further. He had only called her Lizzy in very intimate settings. As she played and sang for him his gaze was so penetrating she could barely manage without stumbling.

She gathered her courage, though, for she had other plans, and requested they next spend some time in the library. Later she would take in the grand size and vow to read every volume, but now she had very singular thoughts.

"Do you have something particular you wish to read this evening?"

"No. Now you must stand here." She arranged him and laughed at his confused expression. She began to sing:

_The ash grove, how graceful, how plainly 'tis speaking_

_The harp through its playing has language for me._

_Whenever the light through its branches is breaking,_

_A host of kind faces is gazing on me._

_The friends from my childhood again are before me_

_Each step wakes a memory as freely I roam._

_With soft whispers laden the leaves rustle o'er me_

_The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home._

As she began to sing he smiled and joined in, soon they were dancing.

Instead of the correct last stanza she arched her brow and sang:

_Cease your funning, force or cunning,  
Never shall my heart trepan;  
All these sallies are but malice  
To seduce my constant man.  
'Tis most certain by their flirting  
Women oft have envy shown,  
Pleas'd to ruin other's wooing  
Never happy with their own._

Darcy stopped in mid-step, confusion apparent on his face.

"You see, we are in Derbyshire now!"

"Derbyshire?"

"Why, yes! You told me those were the correct words to the song in Derbyshire."

He laughed but asked again, "When did I say such ridiculous nonsense?" Then the answer struck him. There would have been only one opportunity for him to say such words and not recall in perfect clarity.

"When we danced in the library at Netherfield, before I sliced my hand on your brandy glass."

"My brandy glass?"

"Yes, you knocked it over when you stood to bow at my exit. See, my scar?" She held out her left hand to him. She was growing confused. She knew he had been half in his cups that evening but did not imagine he remembered _nothing_. Why did he propose, then?

"Did it bleed very much?"

"No, you had my handkerchief quite at the ready. I had left it in the room from before and you must have found it."

He staggered back from Elizabeth.

"You do not remember?" He jerkily shook his head. Elizabeth could hardly account for it, but she felt as though she might cry.

"Tell me, what happened next?" His breath was coming quickly and only added to Elizabeth's confusion.

_Does he truly not recall our touches? Carrying me?_

"I...I felt lightheaded and you carried me to my chamber door. You were quite the gentleman and so concerned about my injury."

He said nothing for a long moment. "Carried you to your chamber _door_? I left you at _your_ door_?_"

Elizabeth blushed scarlet. "Of course! What did you imagine?"

He did not reply and suddenly it was all too clear to Elizabeth what he had thought happened. She could scarcely breathe from the pain.

"You believed you seduced me! That was all your talk about duty and honour during your proposal! How could you think it of me?"

"Elizabeth, it was nothing you did…"

"Did you think I was a loose woman? Or that you were such a great catch I would succumb? Perhaps you believed I threw myself at you!"

"No, never!"

"I did not even like you then!"

Darcy paled and stumbled into a chair. Immediately Elizabeth regretted her admission; she had no true wish to pain him. Had she not just earlier today determined a part of her had loved him even then? But she felt so betrayed. She_ loved _him and he did not even respect her! All the affection she thought she had for the man was built on lies.

Her greatest fears were realized. She disgraced herself enough with the liberties she allowed, and now she had the foolish idea it was based in love! "Cease your funning!" He sang it as a warning; he did not want to succumb to her charms. And now "The Ash Grove" would be nothing more than an anthem to her broken dreams of love.

She could not bear to remain in the room any longer. With a strangled sob, she wrenched open the library door and walked to her chambers. She desired to run but knew she should not. She was grateful to not encounter any servants along the way.

Upon reaching her room, she gave in to her sentiments. Before more than a quarter of an hour, long before she had reached the end of her tears or felt herself composed for sensible conversation, Darcy was knocking on the door which led to their shared sitting room. It made her jump.

"Elizabeth?" she made no answer.

"Elizabeth, darling, please." He sounded desperate but she could not face him now.

After several minutes of silence she heard him walk away as she numbly sat on her bed and stared at the door. Her tears had not ceased but they had lessened in severity and she chose to look for a handkerchief, finding one on the table next to her bed. Seeing her newly embroidered initials on it made her sob again.

Recovering herself to a degree, she twisted her damp handkerchief between her hands as she tried to sensibly consider Darcy's revelation. If he had only thought they shared the sorts of intimacies they had explored since the wedding, she would not have been so hurt. His concern for her health, his belief in her condition lasting for several months, all spoke to him believing she had entirely given her virtue to him before marriage, or even an engagement, and was with child.

Did he truly think so well of himself? If she did not entirely trust that he had been telling the truth— he had never been with a woman before— she might have thought he was self-assured with due cause. His every touch, however, showed his respect and reverence for her. His hesitance without clear encouragement and approval from her was not the touch of a practiced rake.

If he did not think himself so talented in the ways of charming women, then something about his encounters with _her _must have made him so confident this seduction took place. She recalled how ashamed she felt after allowing him liberties in the library. At the time she was unsure herself if she was wanton. She had _enjoyed_ it. She even conducted an experiment to discover if the sensations Darcy elicited were possible from any other man. It took her weeks to determine her feelings came from love, but understanding her husband's thoughts on the reason for their marriage brought all her concerns to the front again.

No matter her doubts on herself, this was one situation where _his _opinion did matter immensely. If he thought she would give her virtue to him unmarried, how could he respect her? Would there ever be trust between them? If she was so weak for him, would Darcy believe her capable of these acts with any man?

Yet, he did trust her. Perhaps he had thought she allowed him so much because she cared for and loved him? How could he think that when she was uncertain of her past feelings until this very day? She searched her memories. Before that night at Netherfield, she had mocked and teased him every chance she had. She could not understand how that could be taken as encouragement, but the poor man was so unpractised in the ways of love. The hurt on his face when she declared she did not even like him before that evening told her he must have believed otherwise.

Elizabeth next recalled his odd satisfaction every time he heard the word pleasure. She blushed deeply as she recalled how many times she used the word, all the more as she noticed how much he enjoyed it. If his flawed memories of the evening were anything like what they had shared in the last few days, then he quite earned the smug grin he wore.

Remembering when she first used the word, she gasped. How much of this misunderstanding was due to them talking past each other on such a topic? She had enjoyed the evening in the library. Darcy was pleasant and playful and very attentive to her. It did bring her pleasure, but he imagined a different set of events entirely and assigned another meaning to her first declaration! She had unknowingly encouraged his blind understanding of events. Even her mother hinted at believing something of the sort took place and Elizabeth refused to understand.

She always passionately responded to him. Her first reactions in the library lacked entire encouragement, but she never attempted to stop him. Once betrothed, however, she happily followed his lead on their intimacies and took the initiative many times. Certainly nothing she had said or done since becoming engaged would make him believe she did not harbour tender feelings for him.

What of him? He was an honourable man. She was certain in her opinion. How could he have thought he was so capable of going so far? _She _could not believe it of him!

It was clear he had desired her, but such temptation could not have been entirely new to him. Elizabeth was not so vain as to think herself capable of enticing him when no other lady had. Were his feelings so strong that he could not restrain himself? Yet, he had in recent days, even when she begged. Did he think the alcohol could affect him so entirely? Elizabeth admitted she had little experience with such, but images of Mr. Hurst too dazed and tired to be of any use came to mind. She shook her head. She could hardly suppose how Darcy had reckoned it in his mind.

She turned her thoughts again to the matter of his honour. _Other _men might give in to their carnal lusts with little thought, but Darcy was not one of them. As much as she credited herself with needing more than physical desire to agree to such acts, she also believed Darcy needed more. If she took offense to the argument that she would have succumbed to Darcy's seduction because she was a weak female, she could not claim Darcy would attempt a seduction only because he was a man and prone to lust.

Earlier in the day she was certain she was half in love with Darcy even while she was at Netherfield. It was the only way she could have enjoyed his touch, but she had welcomed it long before she was certain of her feelings. To criticise Darcy for desiring the same before truly knowing his feelings was hypocritical. She agreed to marry him before she knew she loved him; if he had no memories of the night, might he have thought he promised her matrimony even if he did not understand all of his feelings?

Promises of matrimony and seductions turned her mind to Jane and Bingley. Her aunt insisted it was easy to lose good sense when in love and committed to one another. She even went so far as to say the desire for such was natural. Jane really _had _anticipated her vows and Elizabeth had not condemned her, partly because she was still uncomfortable with the events of the night that led to her own betrothal. The scripture, "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone," came to mind.

Jane insisted she and Elizabeth could never have acted wrongly were they not in love and betrothed to honourable men. Elizabeth had to allow at the time she agreed. When she honestly searched her heart, she had to admit she could not hold herself as more righteous than Jane. If faced with that temptation, she might well have succumbed. If only she had some proof Darcy had thought of her in such a light before his proposal!

She reached for a fresh handkerchief to wipe the last of her tears when she recalled Darcy had hers in his pocket that evening. She had thought he was going to return it to her the next day but now she wondered if he had not meant to keep it.

What man who only lusted for a woman would keep her handkerchief, like a token? If it was only lust on his side would he have remembered the song she sang at Lucas Lodge? Would he have so gently tended to her? He made no demands, no attempts at anything greater.

Unfolding the handkerchief a piece of paper fluttered out. With trembling hands she picked it up and read.

_Darling Elizabeth,_

_I wanted to write you verses as I watched you slumber but I find I cannot do you justice and so I turn to an expert. I would jest that my poor attempts might starve away any inclination you feel for me but I refuse to allow it to be so. For, as you have said before, 'Everything nourishes what is strong already.'_

_She was a Phantom of delight _

_When first she gleamed upon my sight; _

_A perfect Woman, nobly planned, _

_To warn, to comfort, and command; _

_And yet a Spirit still, and bright _

_With something of angelic light. _

_-W_

Elizabeth could scarcely breathe when she was finished. Such sentiments could not be put on. Once again Darcy's every action showed his love, even if he chose not to pronounce the words.

She could not believe he was capable of feigning the look which affected her so greatly at the time, the same look that she undoubtedly knew now as love. Yes, Darcy was in love with her even then, for such ardent love could not be the work of a moment any more than the love she felt was. How unjustly she accused him of idle talk!

Now, she only wondered what evidence he had to make him think such things. The time had come to approach her husband and finally have a clear conversation. Firming her resolve, she opened the door to the sitting room.

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Darcy had never hated himself more. It did not matter that he was innocent of seducing Elizabeth; how many times had he imagined it? For weeks now he had been convinced of his faulty pride and selfishness. Of course Elizabeth had not liked him then. He gave her no reason to!

His sweet Elizabeth must have only accepted his proposal out of concern for her reputation, that he had taken too many liberties with her. Any hope of earning her love vanished. His greatest fears were coming true.

The silence remained between them for several minutes, or what he thought was silence. He looked up and was alarmed to see she had left the room. Believing she must have fled to her chambers, he went upstairs and approached the door connecting to their sitting room. She did not answer but he could hear her weeping. After several minutes her rejection of him settled in and he sat on a sofa to consider matters.

Many things now made sense to Darcy. He must have returned to the library to retrieve Elizabeth's handkerchief, which he had found earlier in the day and never had any intention of returning to her, and brought the brandy decanter with him to his room. From there things took their usual course.

Elizabeth's first refusal now made perfect sense. Mr. Bennet, and later Mr. Gardiner, must have known the truth from Elizabeth. The situation with all the other proposals in the area due to Mr. Black's sermon must have assured them that Elizabeth's virtue was still intact. Even Bingley confessed to that as his cause for proposing to Jane.

Attempting to recall his conversation with Mr. Bennet, Darcy was rather sure he never plainly spoke of his perception of that evening. Instead he confessed he had never even had such thoughts of another lady. That was why the older gentlemen did not treat him with the harshness they treated Bingley after the ball!

Elizabeth could not be with child. Darcy blushed deeply. He had rudimentary knowledge, and recalled Mrs. Bennet's words on Elizabeth's delayed courses. Now the blood on their bed linens made sense as well.

How could he have thought she would be vulnerable to his arts? How insulting to her! For weeks he wrestled with disbelieving _he _had acted so ungentlemanly and was always careful to take the blame, but he did not consider how demeaning the very idea of it would be to her. If he had believed himself immoral then surely she presumed he believed her equally so.

That was certainly far from the truth. He had made a terrible presumption on her regard for him at the time. He had convinced himself he had proposed, and their affection and passion mutually, and naturally, grew from that moment. It was not strictly proper, but he had not believed she consented to a meaningless encounter. Certainly nothing she expressed since their engagement was improper. He hoped she would believe him when they spoke again, for now he could clearly see the hurt he had caused her.

He sat in silence for nearly an hour, praying for her forgiveness, when the door to the sitting room opened. She sat next to him and he tentatively took her hand.

"William, I need to know how you could believe this of us."

"Us?"

"Yes, us. I am hurt you could believe it of me, but shocked you could believe it of yourself."

"I could not remember what passed that night. I awoke with some blood on my bed linens, along with your bloodied handkerchief. I remembered meeting you in the library. I knew what my thoughts tended to before you entered. I had been drinking and believed my senses were addled. Then when I met you the next morning you were hurt somehow. I still have not made sense of that, although I have made sense of the handkerchief."

"A step was damaged on the stairwell and I twisted my ankle."

"The same place you stumbled into my arms just before leaving?"

"Yes. You had thought I was with child, did you not?"

Darcy shook his head in self-reproach. "I overheard your mother speaking to Mrs. Gardiner. She was convinced it was so."

"I believe you are too honourable to seduce any lady. You have overcome temptation before."

"I assure you, there was nothing honourable about my thoughts. Other ladies have attempted to entrap me, and I have felt desire, in moments of infatuation, before but never succumbed. My feelings for you were well beyond that and I made no attempt at stopping my thoughts, I indulged them as often as I could. I should have offered you marriage based off them alone."

Elizabeth gasped at his confession.

"Please, Elizabeth." Darcy knelt before her. "Please, listen to me. I never thought you wanton. My lustful thoughts were not because of your behaviour in anyway. I resolved long ago to have no woman but my wife, and the only reason I thought myself capable of this sin was my desire to have you, not just in my bed but always at my side."

"Did you believe were committed to each other?"

"Yes, I could never dishonour you, even in my thoughts. In my heart marriage is what I most desired."

"You would propose marriage in...in your thoughts?"

"Yes."

"Do I understand from your meaning that we would anticipate our vows?" He blushed and looked away. "And you still try to tell me you respected me and did not think me immodest?"

"I know. I know, my thoughts were ungentlemanly but they were not a reflection of you. I saw only what I wished to see. I rationalized you must have cared deeply for me and once we were betrothed, however recently, our mutual regard overtook our good sense. Can you ever forgive me?"

"But you did truly desire to marry me?"

"More than anything, until I realized I loved you. I believed only you could bring me happiness. It took me some time to realize that feeling was a true, deep love. Now, I only wish you could return the feelings."

"But I do love you!" she blurted out.

He shook his head. "No, do not pretend with me. You could not possibly love me, not now. Not after the hurtful things I have believed of you."

Holding his face with her hands, she looked at him in earnest. "Is there anything I could say or do that would kill your love for me?"

"No, but it is not the same. I have known I loved you for weeks, I have loved you for even longer. Your feelings are too new, built upon a falsely good impression of me."

"It is not the same, but it is similar. I doubted your honour, and believed you would say one thing to me and feel another way. After I swore to trust you and vowed to never hurt you! I was only shocked and hurt. I know my own mind and my own heart. I love you, not because I believe you are perfect, but because I see you are the very best of men. You are too harsh on yourself. We recently discussed all men are created equal. Did not Jane and Bingley indulge in the very acts you believed we had?

"I allowed you some liberties and I felt nothing but trust and affection. I cannot say what might have happened had you... had _we_ been carried away by our passions. I was very quickly becoming aware of feelings for you. I cannot condemn you for concluding what I do not know for certain would not have happened."

"Elizabeth, I cannot concede that," Darcy said vehemently. "You would have refused me even if I proposed marriage! No matter how run away you were with feeling that night, I have seen you struggle to sensibly determine your feelings for me. My vain pretensions refused to see how your feelings have grown. Instead, I believed you regarded me then as highly as I did you and were only slow to allow it to develop into love. You would not have accepted my proposal until you were more assured of my character, and without the proposal you certainly would never welcome those kinds of attentions."

"Perhaps, but then without this misunderstanding would you have proposed?"

Darcy was silent for a moment. "I loved you, even if I did not know it. I would have offered for you eventually."

"Aha! Eventually. Who knows what may have arisen? Mother was pushing me towards Mr. Collins and you have already pointed out I might have married anyone else long before now."

"You never would have agreed to marry _him_!"

"Not in present circumstances, but nothing in life is guaranteed. You know this very well. I might have woken up one morning and found Papa dead. I would have had an obligation to my family then. You might have left Netherfield. What if Bingley never offered for Jane and gave up the estate? How would you ever find me again?"

He stood and gathered her in his arms. "I told you once before, I was always meant to find you, and this morning I told you I would never let you go. You are mine and I am yours."

"Yes, that is all that matters now. Everything has nourished our love."

He kissed her with gentleness. "Darling, I can never forgive myself for the grief I put you through due to my arrogance. I scarcely entertained any other idea but that I seduced you, I think because then I knew I had to marry you and I could never talk myself out of it. It was the only way I could allow myself to marry you with all my pride." He paused for a moment before adding gravely. "I confessed it all to Bingley. I will have to explain my mistake. How can you ever forgive me? What a fool I was to share something which could only serve to blacken your name to another!"

Elizabeth hushed his lips with her fingers. "No more. Tell him if you wish, but I do not care what he or others think of me. I only care for your opinion. I love you."

Darcy broke into a wide grin. "I love you." Instead of a passionate kiss he touched their foreheads together.

"Now, I am very tired and would like a tour of our rooms again." Elizabeth arched a brow and Darcy smiled.

He scooped her into his arms, making her squeal, and carried her back to her chambers. There were blushes and some fumbling as they undressed each other but the look in their eyes showed their mutual trust and love. At last they lay in their bed, stripped of their final barriers, and pulled each other close.

That night Elizabeth could only laugh at herself over the thought that her response to Darcy's touch was anything other than love. Darcy's last thought before sleep was that he was an utter fool to ever think he could forget his first night spent in passion with Elizabeth.

%%%%%

The world would change vastly in some ways over the course of their long marriage. There was peace with France, new kings and a queen, industry and science changing their country and their way of life forever. For Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy, however, life was not so different in its essence. Theirs was a marriage of equals in minds as well as hearts. As hoped for, Darcy's mind was softened and his manners improved by Elizabeth's ease and liveliness. On his judgment and knowledge she placed the greatest trust. Their family near and far were well settled and in good health.

Darcy and Elizabeth discharged their obligations with good sense, discernment and affection. The combination of their virtues and passion proved, to their intimate friends, if not an admiring multitude, what marital happiness really was. To themselves, they happily proved no matter the sense one may acquire as time passed on, they would always be the most besotted fools for one another.

The End.

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I hope you all enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!


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